Of Bows, Foes, and Alcoves
by NormandyStarlight
Summary: The story of Emilia Cousland and Nathaniel Howe - beginning in their friendly youth and treading through difficult times as adults. Cover art by liillin on Tumblr.
1. Bows

**A/N: It's such a crime that you can't romance Nathaniel in game - so of course, I have to write a fic about it. I hope you enjoy!**

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The sun had barely began to set in Highever when the Howes arrived to visit the Couslands. Just enough clouds dotted the sky to make for what would soon be a gorgeous dusk horizon, though little Emilia Cousland would likely not take notice. It was the eve of her tenth birthday, which was part of the reason for her family having guests.

The banners and horsemen approached, but their numbers were fewer than Emilia had been told to expect. Typically Arl Rendon Howe would be accompanied by his wife, two sons, and daughter, though three members were absent. Only Rendon and his oldest son of sixteen years, Nathaniel, had been able to make it.

Bryce Cousland greeted Rendon with a brotherly embrace, and smiled as he patted Nathaniel on the shoulder. "The last time I saw you, you were still just a boy. Looks like you're almost a man now."

The young Howe's lips turned upward as he quietly thanked the teryn, his smooth voice having a slight toughness to it, like a fine leather.

Emilia lacked patience and would not be ignored. Certainly not on the eve of her birthday. She tugged at Rendon's sleeves and in a demanding, confident, and slightly ornery tone, asked, "Where's Delilah? And Tommy? And Lady Eliane?" She crossed her arms and bored her narrowed emerald orbs straight into the elder Howe's eyes.

The arl chuckled lightly, "still the little spit fire, isn't she, Bryce?" He nudged his friend jokingly before answering the young Cousland's question. "Unfortunately, my wife, Thomas, and Delilah all came down with some dreadful illness that we did not wish upon you. They send their regrets for missing your party, and wish you a happy birthday."

"Hrmph," Emilia released her arms intentionally with a force creating a slight wind and rolled her eyes. "I'll have to teach this illness a thing or two about ruining my birthday." Both her father and Arl Howe got a good laugh out of her comment, and Nathaniel simply turned one side of his lip up and shook his head ever so slightly. Emilia Cousland was - and would forever be - a force to be reckoned with and everyone knew it.

* * *

Early the next morning, Emilia made her way up to the battlements to watch the archers practice. She shut one eye, drew back her hand, and fired an invisible arrow from her imaginary bow, hitting the bullseye on the last light of the early morning moon.

"Another early riser, I see," the smooth, leathery voice greeted her.

Emilia turned and smiled, the morning sun giving a golden outline to her tiny, but formidable form and long chocolate hair. She had never really spent much time with Nathaniel. Typically when the Howes had visited, Emilia would play with Thomas, who was younger but closer in age. However, whenever her mother insisted upon it, Emilia would then spend time "learning to be a lady" with Delilah, who was about her age. In the past, Nathaniel had typically been glued to his father's side - obviously the lad admired his father and strived to learn more about the responsibilities he would likely eventually be inheriting.

But this time, Nathaniel had torn himself away from Rendon. Or perhaps his father just wasn't awake yet. Either way, Emilia didn't mind his company. "Guess so," she simply replied as she quickly reloaded her imaginary bow and fired another shot at the quickly fading moon.

"Bullseye," Nathaniel stated proudly, playing along with her game.

Emilia lowered her arms and flopped them at her side, evidently discarding the imaginary bow. She rolled those precious, giant green eyes again. "Are you kidding? That was a horrible miss! Perhaps I should just stick to my daggers," she sighed.

Nathaniel grinned widely and pulled a bow out from behind his back. "Or perhaps you would like to learn how to actually shoot?"

The bow was ornate and had a odd blue hue to it. Emilia immediately made note of its beauty and wondered what it could have been made of. She quickly moved past the distraction of its appearance, realizing what Nathaniel had offered, and jumped and clapped excitedly. "Would I ever!"

The young man handed Emilia the bow, who held it with a surprising amount of familiarity. As soon as Nathaniel offered her an arrow, however, her brow furled in confusion. "How do I...?" she muttered as she tried to get the arrow notched in the bow and in held firmly and in the right place all at once. Nathaniel wrapped his arms around hers and placed his hands over hers, guiding her and steadying her aim. With the arrow perfectly trained on the practice target, Nathaniel instructed her to pull back on the bow and when to let go. The arrow may not have hit the bullseye, but it did hit the target, which was impressive enough for a ten year old girl.

"Wow! That was amazing! Thank you so much!" Emilia cheered as she lowered the bow.

"You're quite welcome, my lady," Nathaniel smiled warmly.

Emilia pointed adamantly at Nathaniel. "You're my new favorite Howe," she proclaimed.

The young man let out a chuckle. "Is that so?"

"Yup, definitely. Also, this bow is really pretty. Where did you get it?" the girl asked, examining it further, making note of the Howe crest as she gently ran her fingers across the wood.

"It was my grandfather's bow, and generations of Howes before him," Nathaniel stated proudly.

Emilia grinned and presented it back to him. "It must be special to you, then," she mused as her new friend took the bow back into his hands.

"It absolutely is." Nathaniel's grin switched from ardent to wily as he placed the bow behind his back. "But this one isn't," he procured another bow, a smaller and simple one appropriately sized for Emilia. "Happy birthday, little lady Cousland."

Emilia's wide emerald eyes twinkled as her jaw dropped slightly. She quickly took the bow, setting it momentarily to the side as she practically tackled her new favorite Howe with a hug full of gratitude.

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 **A/N: Teehehe, Emilia's so cute and ferocious. And certainly admiring Nathaniel at this point. :)**

 **Also, I'm definitely needing some cover art. But alas, I'm kinda broke. So if anyone knows anyone who is up for art trades (for fics or crocheted stuffs), please let me know!**


	2. A Duel

**A/N: Oh** **wow, so sorry to take forever to update! This first draft was finished almost a month ago, but then I traveled for 2 weeks and got caught up with the preparation and a wedding and such, so here it is!**

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Four years had passed since the day Nathaniel taught Emilia how to shoot a bow when the Couslands made a long overdue journey to Amaranthine to visit the Howes. Emilia, now fourteen years of age, quickly realized that she no longer had anything in common with or any interest in spending time with Thomas, who was eleven and "still a silly little boy." She spent as much time as she could stand with Delilah before slipping away to find something more interesting to do. She knew Fergus and Nathaniel were busy preparing for the hunt with their fathers, and as much as she wanted to go, her father had already made it clear on the trip over that she was still too young to participate.

Knowing the armory would have plenty of weapons and practice targets, Emilia cleverly snuck in while some guards were distracted and quickly took to the shadows, formulating what she would say to the captain of the guard when she decided to reveal her presence to him. She was impressed with herself for getting this far, and was curious as to how long she could keep the charade up.

"I should have guessed I would find you here, Lady Emilia," a familiar smooth voice called to her.

Emilia stepped from the shadows and towards her favorite Howe. A smirk began to crawl across her face, and upon catching the guard captain's confused expression her grin grew even wider.

Nathaniel chuckled at both their responses. "Did you actually think he wouldn't have seen you?"

Emilia's chocolate brown locks had grown considerably in length since the last time Nathaniel had seen her, and it was neatly braided and draped over her left shoulder. She twisted the end of it between her fingertips as she responded, "of course he would have - when I decided it was time for him to."

The Howe shook his head and smirked, not the least bit surprised by Emilia's actions. "Let me guess - you were bored with my sister?"

Emilia grabbed two daggers off the rack and gave Nathaniel a simple "yup" in response to his question. Nathaniel didn't pry any further - everyone knew Emilia Cousland was a tomboy; she was lovingly called a "spitfire" by everyone who came to know her. Playing with dolls and hair wasn't something she was interested in and never would be.

"Do you actually know what you're doing with those?" he inquired, responding instead to her fistful of weaponry.

Emilia rolled her emerald eyes. "Of course I do. Been taking dueling lessons for three years now." She briefly checked her surroundings and gave a whirlwind flourish with the weapons.

"Some would say your father is an enabler," Nathaniel joked.

"Others would say he knows his daughter," Emilia replied matter-of-factly. "You had better watch your tongue, or else I might have to wipe the floor with you, Nathaniel Howe," she teased.

Nathaniel laughed wholeheartedly. "A fourteen year old girl against a twenty year old man? Not going to happen." He started to turn to walk away, but Emilia's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"You're just a chicken." She placed her fists on her hips, the pommel of each dagger resting against her side.

This time Nathaniel rolled his eyes. "No, I just don't want to get in trouble for hurting Teryn Bryce Cousland's little girl."

"Chick - en." Emilia slowly and purposefully uttered both syllables.

Nathaniel sighed. "Alright, if you're so determined to duel, we shall - but with modified weapons."

Emilia cocked an eyebrow. "Those being?"

"Thomas' wooden toys. Meet me in the back courtyard in ten minutes. I'll bring the supplies."

* * *

The courtyard was empty save a few guards on patrol. Emilia fiddled with her hair impatiently as she waited for Nathaniel to return; he was taking longer than expected. Chicken, she thought, sure he had backed out of their arrangement.

Just as she stood to leave, the sound of footsteps crunching in the grass caught her attention. She whipped around to see Nathaniel approaching, a handful of wooden weapons in tow as promised. He held out his arms, and Emilia picked two wooden daggers out of the small pile, making note of what was left.

"What kind of nonsense are you up to?" Emilia accused as she pointed out the wooden axe.

Nathaniel stepped back and smiled incredulously. "What? I always dual-wield with an axe and a dagger," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Daddy's boy," Emiliia chided jokingly.

Nathaniel chuckled. "Alright, let's get this over with, then." He readied his weapons and widened his stance.

Emilia's lunged at him without warning, and the duel was on. Wood clashed against wood as the two fenced, gracefully at first as if testing the waters of their opponent.

The clatter in the courtyard drew the attention of the guards, and before long, a small crowd of them had gathered to watch. Some cheered on Nathaniel, and others Emilia. Wagers were made as the tiny battle grew more fierce; neither rogue was backing down, and both were stepping up their game.

Before long, Rendon and Bryce became aware of the gathering of guards and showed up to see what the fuss was about, finding their children smirking and exhausted as the duel was appearing to near it's end.

"Oh, my dear Emilia," Bryce said with a sigh, shaking his head but grinning all at once.

Emilia stopped for a brief moment to catch her breath and Nathaniel followed suit. Before he could react, the sly little girl somersaulted between his widened stance, popped up behind him, and while standing on her toes, placed one of the wooden daggers to his neck. "I win!" she proclaimed for everyone to hear.

Coins were swiftly exchanged amongst the variety of pleased and disgruntled guards, who then dispersed back to their posts without awaiting orders from the Arl - orders they knew would be delivered harshly if they didn't clear out quickly.

Emilia rushed up to her father and wrapped her arms around his waist, looking up at him affectionately. "Aren't you proud of me, daddy?"

"Yes and no," Bryce responded diplomatically. "I'm proud your skills have developed, but you should know not to pick fights," her father scolded.

"But how do you know Nate didn't start it!?" Emilia retorted.

Bryce gave her a condescending look as he took his daughter's hand and led her away, continuing the lesson she needed to learn in private.

Nathaniel wiped the sweat from his brow as he approached his father, who wore a scowl across his face.

"What?" the younger Howe asked incredulously, continuing to explain without waiting for a response for his father. "I let her win. She's a fourteen year old girl. I didn't want to hurt her."

"I hope that argument is more convincing to others than it was to me just now." Rendon's rebuke schathed his son's pride, and without further discussion, the arl turned and left Nathaniel standing alone to think.

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 **A/N: I hope you all are enjoying this so far! Thank you to Impslave for the review on the last chapter and those who are reading along!**


	3. A Young Lady

Of Bows, Foes, and Alcoves Chapter 3

The rising sun made its way up the horizon, granting a fleeting golden outline to the landscapes of Castle Highever. Emilia relaxed supine on the grass, her backside damp from the dew that had yet to evaporate from the ground. She turned her gaze directly up to examine the heavens, where that very last bit of starlight could been seen and enjoyed in peaceful silence before the day began.

Familiar steps crunched the grass, and her heart quickened. Two long years had passed since the Couslands had last seen the Howes, and Emilia was expecting their arrival today. The sixteen year old girl, now becoming more and more of a lady, sat up and looked over her shoulder.

He was stunning, radiant in the morning light. The way his dark hair nearly brushed against his shoulders, the way his lip curled up on one side.

The way those silver eyes shined as they met her emerald ones.

Nathaniel stood before Emilia and offered her his hand. She took it, and he gently pulled her up off the ground, but he didn't release her hand once she stood - And neither did she.

"Emilia, there's something I need to say," Nathaniel's smooth voice purred.

The young lady Cousland smiled in an uncharacteristically meek fashion and blushed slightly as the gentleman of her affections took her other hand in his. Nathaniel swallowed before he continued to speak.

"I've spoken to both our fathers, and asked permission to court you."

Emilia's heart raced. Her eyes locked with his. She grinned widely and watched his gaze trail down to her lips. He stepped in closer to her. She closed her eyes and parted her lips, anticipating a moment she had only ever dreamed of before. Suddenly, her face was covered by a slobbery wet tongue and weight pushed against her thigh in two concentrated spots. An insistent bark met her ears, and her eyes opened without her permission.

 _A dream. Again._ She groaned as she threw the covers off the bed and addressed her mabari. "Oliver, you had to go and ruin a lovely dream, you know that?" she scolded playfully. The dog whined and she gently scratched his head as she sat up, her legs draping over the side of the bed. "Oh, I know, boy. You couldn't have known, after all."

The dog barked happily, and Emilia's mother's voice followed.

"Emilia! Did you oversleep, dear? The Howes are expected to arrive shortly!" The teyrna poked her head into her daughter's room and lowered her voice. "You need to be prepared to present yourself to Thomas."

The young noble rubbed her eyes and yawned. "Thomas? But mom, he's an obnoxious, spoiled adolescent with whom I have absolutely nothing in common. I would much rather spend time with Nathaniel."

Emilia's mother sighed and shook her head. "I thought you knew already," Eleanor examined her daughter's confused visage, wondering if that was a hint or worry she saw as well. Emilia widened her gaze further, moving her head forward with a motion that nagged her mother to continue her thought. "Rendon sent Nathaniel to the Free Marches over a year ago, love," Eleanor broke the news.

Emilia scowled. "That slippery bastard..." she muttered loud enough for her mother to hear.

"Emilia!" the teryna scolded her daughter.

"Everyone knows Arl Howe favors Thomas over Nathaniel! He clearly sent him away to get him out of the way! I don't care if he gave any other reason!"

Eleanor rolled her eyes at her daughter. "In any case, you need to prepare yourself to be presented to Thomas."

Emila rolled her eyes back at the teryna in the exact same manner, one she had clearly picked up from her mother. "No," she stated and folded her arms across her chest. "I know father and Arl Howe are considering setting Thomas and me up for marriage and that you all have been planning this for years now. I will spend the entirety of the Howe family's visit with Delilah. But I will never marry Thomas, so please stop trying to get me to like him."

"If you insist, my dear," the teyrna shook her head and she turned to leave her daughter's quarters, smiling at the stubborn nature her daughter inherited from her.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I'm a terrible tease, I know. I'm also aware that this chapter was quite short - but drafts of chapter 4 and 5 are already completed, so more is on the way soon! Thank you to Impslave for the reviews - I can't tell you how much I appreciate it! And to any reading along silently - I appreciate y'all too! Also a huge thanks to the amazing Ms Sticha for being the greatest bf (beta-reader/friend) I could ever ask for. :)


	4. Foes

**Author's Note: Told you the next chapter would be up soon! Now we're wiggling into canon times - I hope you like the slight changes I've made. 3 A huge thank you to those who have favorited, followed, or left reviews - I can't tell you how much such a simple gesture encourages me. My muse seems to be cooperating with this fic, and I plan to publish the next chapter sometime next week. Thank you for reading!**

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Everything had changed in an instant. As Emilia Cousland approached Ostagar with the Grey Warden Duncan, all the twenty-three year old woman could do was dwell on the final events at Highever.

 _I should have known._

Emilia scolded herself for not sensing Rendon Howe's treachery. For not being able to stop it.

 _I was a stupid girl distracted by stupid things._

Namely, the flavor of the week, Bann Loren's son Dairren. Ever since Emilia found out Nathaniel was sent away, she made a point to secretly flirt with any young men brought to see her - the exception being Thomas. She always gave her parents the impression she wasn't interested in any of them, but would seek the men out later in without her parent's knowledge. Then, Emilia would spend time getting to know the potential suitors, both on a superficial personal level, and an intimate physical one. Ultimately, she arrived at the same conclusion each time: they weren't good enough for her.

Unfortunately for Dairren, Emilia never got the chance to tell him she was actually considering giving him a second date. He had played along well with her sarcastic nature and didn't seem intimidated by her. He also, however, hadn't compensated for the lack of intimidation by attempting to dominate her, either. Simple things, but Emilia knew she would be expected to settle down soon and had to start taking courting more seriously.

Her mabari Oliver had startled them both awake on that fateful night with his barking. Immediately, Emilia knew something was wrong.

 _"He doesn't do this, Dairren. You need to get back. Hide under the bed. I'm putting on my armor."_

But then Dairren blew any chance he ever had - he didn't immediately follow Emilia's advice. The time he took to process what she said was too much; He didn't move fast enough. Soldiers stormed the room and impaled Dairren. Oliver fought them off while Emilia finished donning her emergency armor.

 _My mabari saved me. Perhaps in a way Dairren did, too._

With tearful eyes, Emilia looked down at her loyal pup and stroked his head, thankful he had found her on the road just outside Highever.

 _The only living part of my life I still have._ She simultaneously mused and lamented. _Fergus is out there somewhere_ , she reminded herself.

But then her pessimism got the better of her. _For now_. _Rendon Howe is still alive, after all. So is everything he loves. And Everything he knows._

Emilia's father's pale and dying form flashed in her mind. The way his eyes were nearly empty, in contrast to those of the woman holding him. Fire and tears filled her mother's eyes as she insisted Emilia leave.

The young Cousland remembered the horrific sight of Fergus' wife and child, slaughtered. The felled guards, the murdered servants and guests.

 _This I vow to myself and to you, Rendon Howe:_

 _I will destroy you and everything you know and love._

 _\- approximately one year later -_

It seemed to Emilia that all the events that had taken place in her life since that fateful last night in Highever were shades of grey. As if her status as a Grey Warden seemed to taint her life in it's entirety. Many of the decisions she made to stop the Blight: grey. Killing the werewolves for the elves aid - when it was a elven curse that plagued them: grey. Deceiving Anora and promoting her brother-in-arms Alistair to become King of Ferelden, when she knew he wanted nothing of it: grey. Her supposed friends-with-benefits relationship with her companion Zevran, which she suspected had meant more to him: grey. The way she felt about being given charge of Amaranthine, both dirty and accomplished at all once: grey. Even the one moment which seemed so black and white at the time, the revenge that was clearly cut-and-dried for Emilia, now haunted her dreams in shades of grey:

 _"I deserved better!" Rendon Howe hissed as he collapsed to the ground, near death._

 _"No Rendon - my family did," Emilia declared, impaling the traitorous Howe through the heart with Duncan's dagger._

 _Bryce Cousland's disappointed voice broke into the scene. "No Emilia - my legacy did." His pale face replaced Rendon Howe's. His eyes were black and his skin splattered with blood - the one thing that wasn't grey in her dreams._

Emilia awoke in Vigil's Keep with a startle. Both her dream and soft foot steps at her door had jarred her from her slumber. She threw a pillow towards the source of the sound and grabbed Duncan's dagger, which laid beneath it. The pillow impacted the unwanted guest, but Emilia did not follow through with the dagger; she was surprised to see Anders standing at the threshold of her door.

 _Another shade of grey,_ She thought as she released her grip on the crimson blade.

"Sorry," Emilia offered diplomatically.

"I'm just glad it wasn't the dagger," the suave mage replied. "The seneschal -"

"No, Anders," Emilia interrupted. "I mean I'm sorry I dragged you into this. I've been meaning to say that," she admitted out-of-the-blue. The apostate mage stared at her, unsure of how exactly to respond. Lucky for him, Emilia elaborated without further prompting. "I conscripted you without giving you a choice. After all your help securing the keep, I should have given you the option to just go."

Anders smiled wryly. "You know, I think it worked out alright anyways. This way the templars are off my back for awhile. Plus now I have this useful extra sense of sensing darkspawn."

Emilia chuckled. "Hopefully with the Blight over, you won't have to use it too much." She switched gears, remembering Anders had a point in coming to her quarters. "Sorry, you had a message?"

Anders responded with professionalism. "Seneschal Varel wanted me to inform you that a rogue was captured on the premises and taken to the dungeon. Evidently, he was trying to steal things from the keep and proved to be a challenge for the guards to catch. Varel said you might have an interest in speaking with this prisoner and deciding what to do with him." Anders paused and shrugged. "Why he chose me to deliver this message, I'll never know. Wrong place, wrong time, I suppose." Anders switched to his usual, refreshing, sarcastic tone.

Emilia pursed her lips slightly to the side and raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Give me a few moments to get decent. I'll meet you in the Great Hall. Tell Oghren he'll be joining us as well, provided he's sober."

"That's a long shot!" Anders laughed as he pivoted and exited Emilia's room.


	5. The Prisoner

**A/N: And now we're in to canon Awakening times! Some of the dialogue from this was taken from Dragon Age: Awakening (which is owned by Bioware / if it ain't broke, don't fix it). I hope you enjoy Emilia and Nathaniel's reunion!**

* * *

Dawn: Emilia's favorite part of the day. This was the first she had seen of it at Vigil's Keep since it came to be under her rule. Everything somehow looked different now than the times she and her family had visited the Howes here - though that was once-upon-a-time when things were quite different between the two families. But Emilia couldn't let her mind dwell on that; she had work to do.

With Anders and the hung-over Oghren in tow, Emilia, now the Warden-Commander, made her way to the jail of the keep.

"Watch out, he's a sly one," the guard posted just outside the door noted. The Warden-Commander simply nodded her head and entered the small prison.

A dark-haired man dressed in torn trousers and a ragged shirt slumped against the back wall of the cell, his head hanged down towards his chest. Upon the clatter of the door closing behind the group, the prisoner looked up to see who approached him. Emilia's eyes immediately locked with his familiar grey ones. She stopped dead in her tracks, causing Anders to nearly collide with her back. A plague of jumbled thoughts raced through the Cousland's mind.

 _It's him. It can't be. Does he know what happened? All of it? Everything? Does he hate me?_

 _More shades of grey._

"Nathaniel," she breathed his name grievously.

The young man grunted and shook his head. "I should have known my father's killer wouldn't look any different than before," his leathery voice mused. "You're still have that same wide-eyed, falsely innocent facade you always did."

"Nathaniel, I -"

"You killed my father," his voice rebuked her for even attempting to speak to him. His silver eyes narrowed as he stood and looked down towards her small but formidable frame. "I have nothing to say to you."

Emilia faltered in her usual resolve - something Oghren had never seen in his days of knowing her. He nudged her, silently urging her to snap out of it. The Warden-Commander turned to her dwarven friend, smiled, straightened her posture and smirked as she approached the cell door. All three men in the room stared in awe as she opened the cell gate and stepped towards the rogue prisoner, her emerald gaze piercing his grey eyes.

"Your father murdered my family and everyone else in Highever that night. He got what he deserved." Emilia continued to stare up at him, daring him to challenge her.

"Your family was going to sell us out to the Orlesians!" Nathaniel retorted.

"And I suppose your father told you that?" Emilia barked back without missing a beat.

Nathaniel paused and his gaze dropped away from Emilia's eyes. He took a step backwards. "No," Nathaniel's hand made a fist, not missed by Anders and Oghren. The Howe, noticing the reactions of the Cousland's companions, relaxed his form and regained his composure the best he could before continuing to speak. "A Grey Warden stole into his estate and murdered him before I had the chance," he seethed, his gaze burning into her eyes.

Emilia did not take the bait. Instead of responding with further hostility, she simply folded her arms across her chest and waited for Nathaniel to continue. The Howe sighed and obliged her silent request. "I came here..I thought I was going to try to kill you. To lay a trap for you."

His words pierced Emilia's heart, and the smirk that the Warden-Commander had skillfully painted on her face did not survive them. Her lips fell and her eyes shimmered as she fought to hold back tears. She scolded herself for reacting this way, and was surprised that after all these years and everything that had come to pass, her feelings for Nathaniel hadn't diminished.

The Howe sighed and softened his tone and visage. "But then I realized I just wanted to reclaim some of my family's things. It's all I have left."

The conversation was a duel - swells of heat and calm, each striking when the other was vulnerable. And although this duel was without weapons, it hurt even so. Nathaniel had left himself exposed after this admittance, giving Emilia a chance to go on the offensive. "Did you know anything about your father's schemes?" she interrogated him. "How much do you even know?" The second question was more of an accusation - implying that really he didn't know anything at all.

Nathaniel became immediately defensive. "I was squired in the Free Marches the entire time Emilia, you know that. I had no part in his plot and knew nothing of his plans, I swear it."

The use of her first name caught Emilia, and her companions, off guard; even when their families were close, he rarely referred to her so casually. She was pleased, though, that he had confirmed her suspicions.

"Look," Nathaniel continued with renewed diplomacy in his voice. "I don't know what happened with the Couslands. It sounds like was horrible. The entire war was. But whatever my father did shouldn't harm my whole family. The Howes are pariahs now, those of us left."

The vision of Emilia's father from her dream flashed in her mind. _"No Emilia, my legacy did."_ She smiled, agreeing with the voice in her head. _He's right. Nathaniel doesn't deserve death for his father's wrongs._

"It's all thanks to you," the Howe continued. "And now you get to decide my fate. Ironic, isn't it?"

A hint of deviousness sparkled in the eyes of the Warden-Commander. "What would you do if I let you go?" She placed her hand on her cocked hip. She had meant for the question to take Nathaniel off guard, to put him in a position where nothing but an honest answer could be provided; Nathaniel wouldn't have prepared a response to such a preposterous question.

"If you let me go?" Nathaniel was stunned by the conversational move. "I...I don't know. I only came back to Ferelden a month ago." But then a devilish look crossed his own face. "I suppose I would probably come back here - and you might not catch me next time." There was truth in his silver eyes as he played along. "And yes, I know, I'm not making the best case for myself, but would you rather I lie, little Lady Cousland?" He skillfully anticipated his dueling partner's next move, and answered it without waiting for her to make it. "You knew my skills before I left for the Free Marches, and they've only improved. So if you're going to hang me, hang me. What's one more death to you anyhow?"

Nathaniel's words were again like daggers to her heart; Emilia couldn't hold back her tongue. "Do you really hate me so much?" Her brow furrowed with genuine grief, her sassy posture melted away.

The Howe sighed. "The darkspawn are a menace. If it weren't for the Blight, maybe my father would never have..." his voice trailed off as he dodged Emilia's question. "...done what he did." Nathaniel added more resolve to his voice as he continued to speak. "But I can't do anything about them, can I? There's just you and the Grey Wardens, here in my home."

Emilia's mind wandered during Nathaniel's question-dodging-rhetoric.

 _I can't just let him go. He's committed a crime against my keep and my lands, and it would set a bad precedent if I simply allowed him to leave. Plus, can I really trust him? He didn't deny his hatred for me, openly admitted his plot to kill me, and even said he would come back if I released him. No, it's not an option._

 _But I cannot simply allow him to rot in prison either. It would kill me to have him here like this...and he would likely devise a way to escape anyhow._

 _But hanging him - killing him - it just..it's not an option. I won't do it. That leaves...ah yes!_ Light struck the Warden-Commander's eyes. _That's it!_

Confidence returned to Emilia's posture, visage, and voice. "Perhaps you should work to redeem your family's name." Nathaniel opened his mouth to respond, but Emilia cut him off. "I've decided what to do with you, Nathaniel Howe."

* * *

 **A/N: I can't possibly imagine what's going to happen next - can you? ;P Thank you again to those reading along! I would love to hear what you think of this chapter!**


	6. The Right of Conscription

An uncomfortable silence filled the Vigil's Keep jail while Emilia, Anders, and Nathaniel waited for Oghren to return with Varel. Emilia was apparently content to stare at Nathaniel, who shook his head and looked away. _What is her deal?_ Not wanting have to face her gaze, he turned around and sat with his back against the cell's bars.

"Sooooo," a man's voice rang in the silent space. Nathaniel assumed it must have been the mage's, who had remained silent until now. "This is awkward," the same voice continued.

Nathaniel scoffed and Emilia sighed. "It's unfortunate," they both muttered simultaneously.

"Now THAT'S awkward." the mage reiterated emphatically.

Suddenly, light pierced the room and the doors clamored as they opened. Nathaniel stood and turned, thankful the dwarf had returned with the seneschal. Warden Commander Cousland's emerald stare immediately fixated back on Nathaniel's steel eyes. Without taking her gaze away from his, she spoke.

"Seneschal Varel. I wish to invoke the Rite of Conscription."

All the heads in the room whipped towards the Warden-Commander.

"You what?" Nathaniel exclaimed defiantly.

The Seneschal cocked his eyebrow, surprised. "I'm sorry, Commander - The Rite of Conscription? On the prisoner?" The commander darted her gaze at the seneschal, leaving no room for interpretation. _She's not joking,_ Nathaniel realized. Seneschal Varel swallowed and backtracked on his original response."It's an interesting choice, Commander."

Nathaniel objected yet again. "No, absolutely not."

Emilia ignored his outburst and instead turned to face Varel. "Did you know this man is Nathaniel Howe? Is that why you sent me down here?"

The seneschal's eyes widened with surprise. "No, ma'am, I did not." Varel sighed. "A Howe...it figures that they would turn up again. The Howes are implacable enemies, Commander. Are you sure you wish to make him a Grey Warden?"

"I"m positive," she asserted.

 _How dare they speak of me as if I'm not right in front of them. This is my life, and if I can help it, I'll have some say of what little is left of it._ "Hang me, first," Nathaniel inserted.

Emilia whipped around, pierced Nathaniel's silver eyes with her own, her hand on her hip. "You don't think this is better than dying?"

Her eyes glossed over slightly. _Does the thought of executing me bother her?_ Nathaniel shook off his thoughts, crossed his arms over his chest, and took a step closer towards the Warden-Commander. "Hard to say." He stared down at her. "You like having Grey Wardens who want you dead?"

The commander would not be intimidated and stepped even closer to her prisoner. "Some of my best friends have wanted me dead," she smirked, her eyes not leaving his.

Nathaniel's gaze flitted away as he scoffed. _That certainly wasn't the response I anticipated. I wonder what her game is... Fine then, I'll find out. Maybe I'll even play along._ "You really want a Howe as a Grey Warden? You certainly grew up to be a very strange woman, Little Lady Cousland." He softened his shoulders ever so slightly, took a small step backwards, shook his head and sighed. "I can't decide if this is a vote of confidence or punishment."

Emilia's smiled faded from her face. "The Maker will be the one to decide that." The Warden-Commander signaled for her comrades to follow her and turned to leave.

"The Maker? What is she talking about?" Nathaniel barked at the seneschal, demanding an answer.

* * *

Emilia had a request for Anders. "Find something decent for him to wear for the Joining, please." she said, motioning towards Nathaniel. "And Oghren, go tell Varel to wait for Anders to return before proceeding."

Oghren grunted in affirmation as he headed back over to the prisoner and the seneschal. Anders turned to the Waren-Commander with a raised eyebrow. "And what makes you think this task is something I'm suited for?"

Emilia shook her head and grinned. "Well, it was either you Oghren."

Without further explanation, Anders inserted "good point," and took his leave.

* * *

Nathaniel entered the Great Hall of Vigils Keep donned in simple, but clean commoner's garb, which lacked the holes his prison clothes were so plentiful in. Heads turned as Varel led the Howe to the front of the room, where the materials for the Joining were prepared. Nathaniel made note of a few servants who had been there since the Howe days, and the disbelief in their eyes as they uttered his name regretfully beneath their breath. Emilia's light footsteps were right behind him, but he didn't' dare to turn his gaze back towards her. He had inferred that this Rite of Conscription would end one of two ways: with him becoming a Grey Warden, or with his death. Either way, the life he once knew was over - and by the word of the woman who had killed his father.

Upon reaching the altar at the head of the hall, Varel turned and put up his hand, indicating for Nathaniel to stop and wait. Anders and Oghren stood at this side, and Emila moved ahead and took her place next to the seneschal. Emerald eyes pierced his soul, and he searched her intense look trying to make sense of it all. A cold hand rested on his shoulder, and Anders gave Nathaniel a weak smile that said "I've been there, man."

A moment later, Varel handed Nathaniel a large goblet filled with a thick, sticky looking, deep red liquid. Nathaniel caught a whiff of the foul liquid and immediately wished he hadn't; it smelled like death. The seneshal nodded to Emilia, who noted that the words she was about to speak had been spoken at every joining since the very first.

 _Join us, brothers and sisters,_  
 _Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant,_  
 _Join us as we cary the duty that cannot be foresworn,_  
 _And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten,_  
 _And that one day, we shall join you._

Varel's voice continued seamlessly after Emilia's ended. "Nathaniel Howe, you were called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good. From this moment fourth, you are a Grey Warden."

Nathaniel scrunched his nose in an attempt to avoid the smell of the viscous liquid as he brought the cup to his lips. "The moment of truth," he muttered before he tilted the goblet back, taking the concoction into his mouth. It burned unpleasantly as it slid down his tongue and throat, and he wondered if this was how a poison might have felt. He felt his insides twist and turn, the pain nearly unbearable, but he toughed through it anyways, his resolve strong. For all his remarkable constitution, he could not fight his vision suddenly going black.

* * *

Emilia watched as Nathaniel suffered through the ritual. He managed to retain his composure for a time, and made no sound that he was struggling. His eyes, like all others during The Joining, eventually rolled to the back of his head. As he collapsed to the ground, he stretched his arm out towards Emilia.

 _Is he reaching...for me?_ She wondered briefly before rushing to his side as his lifeless body hit the ground with a thud. She knelt at his side, immediately reaching for his wrist. A faint pulse met her fingers, and she sighed with relief.

Varel bent down to inspect the new recruit. "The Howe is stronger than expected. For better or for worse, he will live."

Oghren and Anders carefully lifted Nathaniel's unconscious form from the ground and carried him to the barracks. "I'll keep an eye on him," the young mage promised.

* * *

 **A/N: I'll bet that didn't surprise y'all much at all. Sorry this chapter didn't get us very far! More coming soon. :) Happy (late) Thanksgiving!**


	7. A New Life

**Bows, Foes, and Alcoves Chapter 7 - A New Life**

Nathaniel's head pounded, its pain forcing him awake. He clutched his forehead and pressed circles into his temples with his thumbs. He groaned, unaware of the presence of his new comrades around him.

"It's like the morning after a night of copious amounts of terrible mead, isn't it?"

Nathaniel cracked open a single eye and spied the blonde mage who had been with the Warden-Commander earlier. _The same man who also brought me a decent set of clothes to wear for the ceremony which might have been my death sentence._ Nathaniel wasn't sure what to think of him yet, so he settled on being amiable for now.

"Mmm." Nathaniel groaned in agreement.

"Here," the mage offered. "It's my special recipe."

Minty steam met Nathaniel's nose, and curiously, he opened both his eyes to find a cup of hot tea in front of him.

"It's a mixture of mint, elfroot, and prophet's laurel. Works wonders on headaches."

Nathaniel cautiously took a sip. The warm liquid thankfully failed to burn his tongue and felt soothing as it went down his throat. _Perfect,_ Nathaniel mused. Inhaling the steam seemed to even help with his headache all on it's own.

"Thank you," Nathaniel paused as he expressed his gratitude, realizing he did not know the name of his mage ally.

"Anders," the mage replied with a smile. "And this lout is Oghren. He's lucky enough to 'not get hang overs.'"

"None bad enough to drink your girly tea!" the dwarf retorted.

"Don't mind him, he's just perpetually grumpy because of his small stature." Anders mocked the red-bearded dwarf.

"And you're just jealous you don't have a pretty lady waiting for you at home." Ogrhen childishly stuck his tongue out at Anders, who smirked, pausing only for a moment to come up with his retaliation. As the two continued to battle with witty insults, Nathaniel tuned them out like he used to Delilah and Thomas. Instead, he focused on breathing, the scent of the tea, and the warm relief it brought him as he enjoyed drinking it.

A third voice entered the conversation. "Oh would you two give it up already?" The familiar feminine voice teased them in a discouraging way.

Nathaniel's attention was piqued, and he looked up from his cup to spy Warden-Commander Cousland. The sight of her brought all his questions to the front of his mind.

 _Why didn't she just have me hanged? Was her conscripting me a vote of confidence, or a punishment? Why does she smirk at me like that? Was that an edge of grief in her voice when she asked yesterday if I hate her? Do I hate her? Shouldn't I?_

"Commander," Oghren and Anders acknowledged her presence simultaneously. Anders let out a chuckle after a brief moment of silence, as though he had something else to say and simply couldn't contain the giggle. The commander shook her head back and forth with a smile on her face, as if amused by the rapport between the dwarf and mage. _Oghren and Anders. You might as well learn their names, Nathaniel. You won't be getting out of this, and could be working with them closely._

"Well then," the Cousland's voice continued. "Feeling alright this morning, Nathaniel?"

Nathaniel was surprised by the familiarity and cordial quality with which she addressed him. "I, um, I'm fine," he simply responded, his tone curt and conveying that he didn't wish to elaborate.

One corner of Emilia's lip twitched up in the slightest, barely conceivable manner. "Right, well, we have a mess to clean up. Evidently in one of the basements, some ghouls have been causing problems and trying to get out into the rest of the keep. We also need to explore the possibility of a Deep Roads entrance down there, so the four of us will be going in. Get yourselves prepared for a fight," Emilia's speech was punctuated by Oghren's loudly growling stomach. "As well as something to eat," she added without missing a beat. "Meet me in the Great Hall when you're ready."

Anders verbally acknowledged the order, Oghren thanked Emilia for the chance to dine first, and Nathaniel simply nodded. Emilia nodded back, and as she turned to leave her choice weaponry was revealed. When Nathaniel saw Emilia yesterday, she hadn't been completely outfitted to go into battle like she was now. He was somewhat shocked and rather impressed by what he observed. _She dual wields two full-sized swords?_ He became curious about how her skills had developed in battle, and, much to his surprise, found himself looking forward to fighting along side her in a short while.

* * *

Dim lights and the rank odor of death - that's all that awaited Nathaniel, Emilia and the other two wardens as they entered the building that needed to be inspected. A lifeless mabari laid in the center of the room, and Emilia rushed straight to it. Nathaniel noted her affection for the dogs, recalling she had one of her own growing up. He concluded this wasn't that mabari; the color of hers was different, and there's no way her precious mutt would have been down here without her. Plus, her reaction was too stoic for this to have been the discovered loss of a pet and trusted companion. Emilia simply shook her head and frowned when she realized there was nothing she could do for the mabari, but spotted a note underneath. Her eyes quickly skimmed studied the note, squinting in the darkness of the room. She summarized it as a note of desperation - a cry for help.

"It's signed by a woman named Adria," Emilia concluded, a hint of questioned familiarity in her voice.

Nathaniel was immediately more alert upon hearing that name - his posture straightened, his eyes darted around for any sign of her in the room. _Adria - she can't be here. Why would she be in this mess?_ A moment ago he had basically just been begrudgingly following orders, but now he truly cared. "Adria is here? We have to find her!" His demanding tone got him looks of shock from Oghren and Anders. Appal flashed briefly across Emilia's face, but in an untypical patient moment of hers, it transformed into a concerned look. She silently urged Nathaniel to continue speaking with her curious, raised brow, and so Nathaniel elaborated. "She was a servant here. She was like a mother to me."

Emilia met Nathaniel with compassionate eyes. "If she's here, we'll find her," she reassured him.

As the four searched the various rooms downstairs, they were attacked by groups of ghouls and animated undead. They made short work of the disorganized packs, with Nathaniel and Anders attacking from a distance, Oghren keeping them busy up front, and Emilia sneaking around behind to flank them. _This can't be good,_ Nathaniel worried once they had finished fighting them off. _Even if we find Adria...she might already be dead._

Muffled shouting voices and banging on bars filled the stairwell as the group made their way further down. "There's prisoners here?" Anders questioned in response to the sounds. The door to the next room was jammed shut, so Emilia ordered Oghren to take care of it. With one heavy swing of his two-handed axe, the door crashed down. _Note to self - don't piss off the dwarf,_ Nathaniel reflected. The absence of the door revealed just what Anders thought - a couple of men behind bars. The mage rushed towards them, but kept a safe distance as he checked their vitals with his magic. "They're weak and malnourished, but they aren't infected, Commander. But if we leave them here..."

Emilia cut Anders off. "Escort them out to the guard," she ordered. The mage nodded, keeping an eye the prisoners as Emilia picked the lock with ease. Nathaniel was surprised that she just let them go. _Well, not exactly. They're being turned over to the guard. But still - she sent Anders with them. She could have just left them here until we were done, taken the chance that more ghouls could have found and infected them. But she didn't take that chance. A moment of compassion, I suppose,_ he mentally scoffed.

Nathaniel and Oghren started to move toward the last staircase down, but Emilia's voice stopped them. "Wait, there's a room to the left we need to clear, first."

"No." Nathaniel objected immediately. This time, there was no sympathy or curiosity in the appalled look Emilia gave Nathaniel. He sighed and explained. "That's the family crypt. You have no business disturbing those grounds."

"I do when there could be ghouls in there. Or undead. We've dealt with both down here so far. I have to make sure every room is cleared before we send in the excavation team."

Nathaniel couldn't argue with her reasoning - or her orders. He was getting worried though, impatient that they hadn't found Adria, and doubted she would be in there. "Fine. Let's just make it quick and not disturb things anymore than we have to."

"A reasonable request," Emilia noted. She shook her head at Nathaniel and then looked at Oghren. "Door?" She ordered impatiently.

The dwarf kicked the door open and the three cautiously entered the crypt. No sooner than Emilia set foor into the center did a flock of undead spring from the shadows to greet them. Nathaniel skillfully sunk his arrows into a few as the melee fighters chose their targets. Anders soon appeared behind Nathaniel, backing him up with ranged magic spells. Soon enough, the only targets left were the ones that Emilia and Oghren were directly engaging - and it was at an angle too risky for Nathaniel to shoot at. He found himself watching Emilia duel the creature, admiring the finesse with which her strong arms wielded two full-sized swords. The certainty and confidence that embodied her skill was impressive. Nathaniel remembered a younger version of Emilia, a girl not much more than a child fighting him with two small wooden swords. The image from the memory overlapped reality in his brief daydream - any innocence the vision had was abruptly shattered as Emilia severed the head of her final opponent. She lowered her blades and faced Nathaniel.

"Enjoying the view?" she teased, puffing out her arms and plastering that same playful smirk from the duel all those years ago across her face yet again.

Nathaniel kept his tone level in his response, indicating nothing but seriousness. "Just noticing how far you've come since the last time I saw you dual-wield."

Emilia chuckled and sheathed her weapons. "Yeah, well, bows never were my strong suit."

A ghoul popped up behind Emilia. Reflexively, Nathaniel fired at it. The arrow flew just above Emilia's shoulder and impaled the ghoul in the middle of it's forehead.

"This bow sucks," Nathaniel grumbled. "I was going for its eye." Oghren and Emilia both laughed at Nathaniel's comment, who certainly didn't mean it as a joke. _This bow really is terrible._ He rolled his eyes and looked to Anders, who simply shrugged, not wanting to take sides.

Emilia stopped laughing long enough to order Nathaniel and Anders to keep the perimeter secure while the made sure the room was clear.

After a few moments of uneventful silence, Anders leaned over and spoke in hushed tones to Nathaniel. "She's a feisty one, isn't she?"

"Always has been," Nathaniel answered with his usual lack of humor.

"I take it you've known each other a long time then?" the mage pried.

Oghren and Emilia approached as Nathaniel simply and quietly answered the question. "Since her first nameday." Nathaniel was thankful they were moving on; he wasn't sure the direction the conversation would have taken after that answer, and was glad he didn't have to find out.

The group moved back through the empty jail and, finally, down to the lowest basement, where there were three final ghouls.

Nathaniel immediately recognized one of the ghouls. Though she was twisted and scarred, he could never mistaken someone who had been so familiar to him for just a common foe. _Adria..._ Nathaniel hesitated when he saw what had become of his former caretaker. She was rabid, attacking his fellow wardens, but he still paused before shooting her.

In the time he waited to release the arrow from his bow, Emilia impaled Adria in the back with both blades simultaneously. Instantly, the shell of the woman Nathaniel knew fell to the ground, lifeless.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Apologies with the delay on this chapter! I'm currently without a beta so I've been obsessively editing about a million times more than usual. Also, I was busy playing Inquisition for the first time, which made it hard to find time to write, haha. Please tell me what you think! :)**


	8. Bows II

**Bows, Foes, and Alcoves Chapter 8 - Bows II**

 **Author's Note: Wow, have I been on a roll this week! And Ms Sticha is back to beta reading for me - bless her kind and amazing soul. :) I'm too impatient to wait to post this, so here you go! ;) Thank you to everyone who reads along - and especially to those who leave comments - it really means a lot to me!**

* * *

Sharp pain and a loud grumble from Emilia's empty stomach caused her to lose her train of thought as she finished writing up her report on the events from earlier that day. After such a tiring day, a meal was the first thing on most people's minds - but not her's. She always did have a one-track mind. Anytime she set out to do something, she would allow nothing else to stop her before she completed her task. The same with when she decided she wanted something. _Tenacious_ , Fergus had always called her - _to a fault_. Her increasing hunger was of no concern to her as she finished up the report, adding her signature to the bottom, a single line sufficing as the dots for the multiple "i"s in her name. _Sloppy,_ her mother had always criticized her signature. _It makes your 'l' look like a 't.' 'Tis no signature of a lady._ Emilia could still recall her mother's voice. _Some 'lady' I've turned out to be,_ she mused. An indignant growl from her stomach interrupted her thoughts. Emilia rolled her eyes at herself, and left the report on her desk; she would deliver it to Varel later. Emilia's goal, after all, had simply been to complete it.

As she traveled across the balcony and towards the dining hall, Emilia found her mind wandering to Nathaniel. He hadn't said a single word about her slaying the ghoul that once was Adria. In fact, had she not noticed his hesitation, Emilia would not have even been sure that it was her. Nathaniel's bow had been clearly pointed right at the ghoul, an arrow notched and ready to fire. But the arrow that should have caused Adria's heart to stop beating had been placed back into Nathaniel's quiver, unstained. Emilia ought to have included Nathaniel's hesitation in her report - but she chose not to. She didn't want his record with the Wardens to be tarnished from the start. He had had no trouble shooting anything else they came into contact with down there, including the animated skeletons in his family's crypt. Emilia forgave his inaction this time; she knew all too well that sometimes your first mission as a Warden didn't turn out as expected.

Making her way down the stairs, Emilia scanned the dining table. Clustered together were Seneschal Varel, Captain Garevel, Oghren, and Anders. Emilia's lip turned upward, pleased to see her Wardens and staff getting to know each other. Suddenly, Oghren and Varel burst into laughter. Emilia's eyes darted to the class clown, Anders, who was smirking widely with his gaze fixed on Garevel, who was... _blushing?_ Emilia laughed lightly under her breath, wondering what in the world Anders could have said to have elicited such a reaction from her typically level-headed guard captain.

She continued to scan the table, but did not find the dark haired archer she was searching for. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, her comrades stopped their folly and fixed their eyes on her. She realized her brow was furrowed and her expression less than pleased only upon their reaction. She shook off her unpleasant demeanor. "Where's Warden Howe?" she asked plainly.

Oghren burped. "Said he wasn't hungry and 'needed to think.' What Grey Warden isn't hungry after all the work we did today?" the dwarf took another quaff of his beer, the foam from its head clinging to his moustache. "He hasn't left the barracks since we got back."

Emilia rolled her eyes and pivoted away from the table. She collected a bowl of stew and a spoon from the cook and marched out of the dining hall, making a bee-line for the barracks.

* * *

The barracks were mostly dark, save the light from a single candle which illuminated Nathaniel's face. His eyes desperately scanned left to right across the parchment in his hands. Presumably, he was reading letters written by his sister. They had found some while searching more thoroughly on their way out of the basements earlier that day. Nathaniel had heard nothing of his sister since his return to Fereldan and many thought her to be dead. His steel eyes were softer now than before. They began to shimmer, tears beginning to form. Emilia cleared her throat, alerting him to her presence - and stopping the moment from developing into one which she would not wish to intrude upon.

She gracefully approached Nathaniel, her stride light and silent as though it no long required concentration to do so. She placed the bowl on the table. "My Warden's don't skip meals."

Nathaniel scoffed. "Is that why you're here? To keep one of your peons from starving? What a shame it would be for a skilled warrior to be wasted outside of combat," the iciness returned to his gaze as he accused her.

Emilia smashed her fist into the table, causing some of the stew to slosh over the bowl and stain the wood. "Damn it Nathaniel!" she exclaimed, having finally lost her temper after such a long day and yet another effort on her part to extend an olive branch to him. He smirked, seeming to delight in her frustration and unhappiness. She sighed heavily, plopped in the chair at the table, and regained her composure. "That's not why I'm here," Emilia coolly continued, folding her arms across her chest in a defensive posture. That certainly wasn't the best way to start things, she reflected on her previous statement, and decided to change her demeanor to a softer, more empathetic one. "I came here to check on you. Because despite the events of the past year or so, we were once close and I..." her voice trailed off as Nathaniel scowled upon her mention of the past. She shook her head switched gears yet again back to a more formal, yet cordial one. "I wanted to express my sympathy for how things turned out with Adria."

Nathaniel stood and snickered sarcastically. "The gall you have," he muttered as he turned away from her.

"Excuse me?" Emilia pried, her voice full of attitude.

Whipping around, Nathaniel's anger was imminent on his face - his scowl, furrowed brow, flared nostrils, tense jaw. "You took someone else I cared for from me today!" he shouted at her. "What else will you take, hmm? You've already taken my father, my status, my freedom, my life as I know it, and now, just to add salt to the wound, the woman who raised me."

Though he raised his voice at her, she maintained her composure. Emilia had a temper as well, certainly, but she had also spent years learning to wear a mask when needed. _To play the game_ , as her dear friend and former Orlesian bard Leliana had called it. She had to treat this conversation as a sort of negotiation. She combated his heated words placidly, like ice against fire. "The Blight took Adria, Nathaniel. My blade simply set her free from its taint and allowed her to return to the Maker."

His harsh face didn't change in the slightest, as if he either didn't heard her words, or hadn't bothered to consider them. _Fuck the game_ , Emilia thought, her icy mask melting from the fire that could not be contained beneath it. She rapidly pushed herself off the chair, moving with such a force that it clattered to the the ground. "I'm not the cold-hearted killer you think I am," she fumed, and without waiting for a response she turned her back on him stormed out of the barracks.

* * *

In the quiet calm of the morning dawn, before the grounds of Vigil's Keep bustled with activity, Emilia found Nathaniel practicing his archery out in the training grounds. It seemed she was correct in her recollection that he, like her, was an early-riser. Emilia was thankful to find him before anything or anyone else could spoil his mood for the day, and planned to take advantage of what would hopefully be a rested and refreshed Nathaniel. As she approached him her gait expressed nothing but confidence, hiding with her caution-filled mindset. She wasn't pleased with the way their conversation had gone the previous night, and not just because he had hurt her feelings. Emilia had planned to reassure Nathaniel and give him the bow Oghren that had found in his family's crypt, but it was spoiled by harsh words and accusations. Giving it to him then wouldn't have helped things, and perhaps he would have used it as fuel for the fire instead.

An arrow flew from Nathaniel's bow, barely missing the center of the target. The slender dark-haired archer grumbled something, and though Emilia couldn't make out the details, she gathered it had to do with the poor quality of the bows again. The emotionally wounded Warden Commander swallowed her pride and decided to keep the dialogue as simple as possible to achieve a successful outcome.

"I have something for you," she voiced diplomatically. Nathaniel's sinewy shoulders tensed suddenly at Emilia's voice; he had been so focused that he hadn't heard her approach. He deliberately chose not to lower his bow, and instead of letting his disrespectful behavior get to her, she simply elaborated. "Oghren found it yesterday in the crypt. I thought you might like to have it."

The bitter Howe lowered his weapon and turned begrudgingly. Emilia stood calmly in front of him, as if he hadn't been so horrible to her the night before. Her toned arms were stretched out towards him, gently holding a bow. Nathaniel carelessly dropped the garbage he had been practicing with, immediately recognizing the fine weapon she offered him.

"This is..." Nathaniel's leathery voice whispered, trailing off in shock.

"Your grandfather's bow," Emilia stated softly.

Nathaniel's silver eyes shimmered slightly as took the bow into his arms, gently rubbing his calloused hands along the perfectly sanded wood. "There's the Howe crest right there." His gaze flickered up to Emilia's shining emerald eyes, and his lip turned up slightly on one side. "So you remember this bow?" he asked rhetorically, considering what she had whispered a moment ago.

"How could I forget?" Emilia happily grinned, softening her posture along with it. "It was the first time I fired a bow that wasn't imaginary," she reminisced, giggling at the image of herself as a silly kid.

The other side of Nathaniel's lip turned up to match the already slightly raised one, closer now to resembling a smile. "Your tenth nameday, if I correctly recall."

Emilia nodded happily. "That's right! You even gave me a small bow as a gift. I did keep up with archery, though I always excelled more with melee weapons," she beamed, grateful that he remembered that day as well. Wanting to take advantage of Nathaniel's improved demeanor, she continued the conversation. "Honestly, I was surprised to find it down there and not amongst your belongings. I didn't think you would ever let that bow out of your sight."

Nathaniel's partial smile immediately turned into a full-blown frown. "My father took it away from me. He found out that I let you shoot it and said I wasn't responsible enough to have it yet."

Emilia's grin melted away. She wished she had left the discussion as it has been a moment ago. Saddened by his admission, she felt partially to blame. "Nathaniel, I'm so sorry."

He clenched his jaw, frustrated with the memory. "When I left for the Free Marches, I asked if I could take it. He said it needed to stay in Fereldan, with all which was important to the Howes." Nathaniel needn't have elaborated for Emilia to piece together what his father had insinuated back then: Rendon had sent him out of Fereldan, meaning that _Nathaniel_ wasn't important to the family.

"What a bastard," Emilia muttered reflexively, wishing she could take it back. Nathaniel looked at her oddly, almost quizzically, perhaps even slightly amused. To her surprise, he didn't respond to the slander of his father.

Emilia placed one hand on her hip, and motioned towards the bow with the other, a slight smirk gracing her face. "Well, it's yours now," she noted. "And I promise I'll never take it away," she winked, attempting to lighten up the mood.

"Thank you, Lady Cousland." Nathaniel finally smiled. It may not have been the most grandiose grin, but it was the first proper smile Emilia had seen grace his chiseled face since she had found him in the keep's jail.

* * *

 **A/N: PS: If you would like to see what Emilia's signature looks like, I posted it on Tumblr - shoot me a PM for the link if you want it. :)**


	9. Eavesdropping

**Of Bows, Foes, and Alcoves Chapter 9 - Eavesdropping**

 **Author's Note:** **This chapter turned out a bit longer than my usual ones, at around 3k words. Apologies for that - but nothing could be taken out or moved. My beta says it goes quickly, though! SO glad to have Ms Sticha back!**

* * *

One of Garevel's scouts rushed into Emilia's office. "The King approaches, messere!" the young man enthusiastically informed the Warden-Commander.

Without hesitation, Emilia ceased work on the letter she was writing to Fergus and marched out of her office, thanking the scout as she passed him.

Alistair entered the gates on his steed, accompanied by a royal guard. As he approached, all who saw him bowed, including sound of shifting weight and feet landing on stone indicated that Alistair had dismounted his horse. "Sister," he spoke to Emilia in a confident tone, his voice granting her permission to stand. The others in the courtyard rose after she did. The Warden-Commander nodded to Garevel, who motioned for the others to return to their business. Alistair opened his arms wide and smiled. Emilia let out a chortle and folded into his firm and friendly embrace. He kissed her on the cheek and playfully whispered "from another mister!" into her ear. Emilia laughed and patted him on the back. Alistair squeezed her in their embrace, making her petite frame lift from the ground. She absolutely hated it when he did that, and though Alistair had no experience growing up as a younger brother, he was quite the natural at it; he knew what pestered her and did it anyways.

Emilia's feet hit the ground as the king released his friend. She then voiced a proper greeting. "It's good to see you, King Alistair." Many eyes were still on them in the courtyard, and Emilia made sure to keep up appearances, always treating the king with the respect he deserved in public. She would get back at him later, privately.

"I knoooooow right? It's been forever!" Alistair exclaimed.

Emilia fought the urge to roll her eyes at him. He might be the king now, but he's still the same silly man he always was. "Alistair, it's scarcely been a month since I visited Denerim last." Emilia had spent most of the past six months after the Battle of Denerim helping to rebuild Highever with Fergus. Eventually, she was called to the capital by Alistair and assigned to Vigil's Keep.

"Yeah, but considering six months ago we were always within ear-shot of each other, it feels like a lot longer."

"Fair enough," Emilia giggled.

A mabari barked from behind Alistair. "Good boy! You recognized her from the painting!"

Emilia blinked and stared at the young hound.

"Happy early nameday!" Alistair grinned. "I know how much you missed Oliver, so I had this guy trained for you."

The mabari barked happily at Emilia and looked up at her, as if awaiting orders. Emilia smirked and took the tiny dagger out of the scabbard which clung to her waist (she never went anywhere without some sort of blade, no matter how small). She widened her stance to an offensive one and smiled, the dog drooling as it followed suit. She carefully lunged at the pup, who dodged her attack with ease. Emilia sheathed the dagger and knelt beside the hound. "Good boy, Oscar!" The mabari rolled onto his back, exposing his belly for her to rub.

"Ha!" Alistair exclaimed. "Called it!"

"Called what? In what way am I predictable?" Emilia questioned, turning her gaze to the king as she pet her new companion.

"Oscar," Alistair snickered. The hound looked at him as if he was already familiar with the name. Alistair knew many things about Emilia, including that she always gave her dogs names beginning with the letter "O."

As the three headed further into the keep, the young mabari traveled ahead. Emilia noticed the ginger color of his coat - uncommon for mabari. It was nearly the same shade as Alistair's hair.

"Alistair?" Emilia asked, receiving a simple hum in response. "Did you pick this mabari because his fur is the same color as your hair?"

"Maaaaaaaybe?" Alistair teased. Emilia swiftly punched him in the arm. The pair laughed heartily - she was the only person in all of Thedas who could do that and get away with it and they both knew it.

* * *

Nathaniel was enjoying the Howe Bow so much that he only took a break from archery to eat. He now understood Oghren's warning that his appetite would grow in the coming days. The dwarf was surprisingly nowhere to be found in the dining all this afternoon, leaving Nathaniel with just Anders. The two made simple conversation, talking about their respective skills and where they came from. The mage did not ask Nathaniel about his relationship or past with Warden-Commander Cousland, which he was thankful for. After the pleasant chat, Nathaniel felt the possibility of a growing friendship with Anders. He was beginning to accept that being a Grey Warden was his life now, and having a friend would certainly make the transition easier. After lunch, the archer headed back outside to continue practicing with the Howe Bow, basking in the warmth that the sunlight brought to the cool early-spring afternoon. His skill had grown as an archer over his many years in the Free Marches, and now it was finally complemented by a fitting bow, which he would be gladly to spend the entire day getting reacquainted with.

 _Thanks to Commander Cousland._ Shock hit Nathaniel as he realized what he was thinking. Grateful feelings for the return of a family heirloom clashed against the anger over his father's murder. Not wanting to dwell on it, or her, he forced his concentration into his practice. He grabbed an arrow from his quiver, notched it in the bow, drew it back, and released the first arrow of the exercise towards the target. Pleased with his immediate bullseye, he wondered if he would manage to split that arrow this afternoon.

Emilia had snuck up on Nathaniel twice in two days, causing him to realize he needed to practice keeping his other senses more attuned while being preoccupied. Though she was a particularly talented rogue, he ought to not let her catch him off guard again. _A rogue should sense a rogue, after all._ He split his attention by listening in on the various conversations happening in the courtyard as he trained - and one in particular caught his attention.

"That's really Nathaniel Howe? He looks much older than the last time I saw him," one servant noted. Nathaniel chose not to let the comment about his age upset him. _Thirty is still plenty young._ Another arrow hit his target.

A second servant, one with a familiar voice, responded to the first. "It's been nearly a decade. I wonder if he even knows Lady Delilah is alive."

Nathaniel's arrow missed the target completely that time. Without hesitation, he stopped his practice and approached the pair. Upon seeing the faces of the elves who were chatting, Nathaniel recognized one of them an elf named Samuel, a gardener. Given Nathaniel's affinity for the outdoors, Samuel was one of the servants Nathaniel got to know better. As the flustered archer approached them, the elven servants' eyes widened slightly.

"My sister is alive? Samuel - do you know this for certain?" Nathaniel tried to hide the desperation from his voice, but it had morphed into an edgy tone.

The elf smiled. "I'm pleased your remember me, master - I mean Warden Howe," Samuel fumbled over titles. He cleared his throat and continued. "And yes, I'm certain. My relatives in Amaranthine say she is married to a merchant there."

Having much to consider, the Howe kept his response short. "Thank you, Samuel," he voiced with as much warmth as he could muster.

Nathaniel returned to his exercise, unable to take his mind off the exciting news. _I must see her_. Another arrow in the target. _But I can't leave Vigil's Keep without consent from the Warden-Commander_. The next arrow landed towards the bottom of the painted circle of hay. _But we're going to Amaranthine tomorrow, maybe I could ask her._ This time, the projectile only grazed the target; he was distracted. _Would she even agree to it? And if so, do I trust her to not kill my sister on sight? What if Delilah is hiding because she helped father?_ Knowing his concentration was ruined, Nathaniel approached the end of the range to collect and recycle his arrows. _There's no use trying to see Delilah without Cousland's consent - she doesn't trust me as it is, and a secretive personal outing in Amaranthine would be rather suspicious_. The archer carefully pulled the arrows from the hay. He remembered Emilia's closing words from the night before: _"I'm not the cold-hearted killer you think I am."_ He considered the mercy she had shown the prisoners in the basement, the chance she gave him, and even her kindness at giving him the Howe Bow. As he placed the arrows back into his quiver, he finally reached his conclusion. _I have no choice but to trust Warden-Commander Cousland if I wish to see my sister_. Wanting to take advantage of her recent generous nature, he headed straight back inside to find her in her office.

* * *

Emilia sat at her desk, Alistair in the the guest chair, and Oscar at Emilia's feet. The door to the office was closed; finally the close friends could discuss things of a private matter.

"So, how do things go with Anora?" Emilia asked Alistair. A few weeks after the Landsmeet, Loghain's death, and Anora's imprisonment, Alistair had a change of heart. He knew she was a capable leader, one the people loved, and offered her a choice; prison or marriage. The queen had been taken aback by such an unexpected suggestion, and after mulling it over for a day or so, accepted Alistair's proposal. The transition had not been an easy one.

"Oh, you know, she still kinda hates me for executing her father and all." Alistair replied in a light but matter-of-fact manner.

Emilia let out a short, annoyed groan. "I can relate."

"Yeeeeah, about that," Alistair started. "You know what - no - other business first. That later," the king changed the subject. "I know the situation here is not ideal. I received your letter requesting aid."

Emilia nodded. "The forces we currently have cannot protect the keep, the city, and the farmlands. Darkspawn have begun to terrorize the countryside; the bannorn will surely be asking for my help when I meet with them in three days time."

Alistair folded his arms across his chest, relaxing. "We've had an increase in people joining the ranks since the Battle of Denerim, but still haven't quite made up the ranks from our losses. I'll spare what I can. Hopefully that number, combined with reassigning some of the soldiers in Amaranthine will suffice?"

Emilia responded in a grateful, diplomatic way. "Any aid is appreciated, thank you, King Alistair."

"Good, let us move on to the next subject - your rebuilding the Grey Wardens." The king went on to jokingly jab at Emilia for recruiting Oghren. The Warden-Commander made a joke about how he actually somehow smelled better now with the taint than he had without it, causing Alistair to erupt with a loud chuckle and give an amused declaration of "good one, Emmy!" Next, the king noted how much Emilia had managed to piss off the Chantry by conscripting Anders. She reassured Alistair that it was worth it; the healer had been invaluable in securing the keep and would certainly continue to be an asset to her team.

Alistair's previously light-hearted nature dissipated and was replaced with a frown. "That brings us back to the Howe."

* * *

Long, light, yet purposeful strides crossed through the Great Hall of Vigil's Keep. Nathaniel would allow nothing to stop him in his quest as he headed to the Warden-Commander's office with newfound resolve. He had to make this request before he changed his mind. He had to see his sister. Blinded by his focus on the task at hand, Nathaniel was ignorant of the extra guards filling the Keep and standing by the stairwell. Surely due to his confidence, the guards stepped to the side and allowed him passage to the upper levels without question. A stiff guard stood in front of Warden-Commander Cousland's office at the end of the hall. Upon noticing Nathaniel's approach the guard relaxed slightly as if relieved to see him.

"Thank the Maker they finally sent someone," the guard sighed, grateful for Nathaniel's arrival

From inside the office, the hearty laugh of a man could be heard, followed by the words "good one, Emmy!"

Then it finally hit Nathaniel. The extra guards. The heraldry on the one standing in front of Emilia's office. Royal Fereldan heraldry. _The king is in there with her. How did you manage to forget that?_ He scolded himself for being so short-sighted. Deciding to play along, he raised his eyebrow and addressed the guard with a low, but still conversational voice. "How can I help you, ser?"

The guard replied in an equally slightly hushed tone, not wanting to disturb the conversation happening inside the office. "I just need to, eh hem, relieve myself. I won't be long," the guard informed Nathaniel.

"Take your time," the sly rogue replied amicably.

The guard nodded in reply and stepped away from his post, allowing Nathaniel to fill it temporarily. As the Howe moved closer to the door, he felt an odd sensation. A sort of warm tingling coursed through his blood, and he almost felt a pull towards the inside of the room. Nathaniel dismissed the feelings, wanting to focus on the conversation occurring inside. The king's voice was clear, if not too loud for someone of his stature to be speaking in a closed-door meeting. _I'm sure Cousland will teach him a thing of two about that._ Emilia's voice was harder to hear, but not impossible for Nathaniel's fine-tuned senses. He had spent years learning to block out other sounds and focus on what he was listening for while hunting.

"Conscripting a prisoner? Really Emmy?" the masculine voice questioned.

Nathaniel felt a pit in his stomach. _They're talking about me._

"I had no choice, Alistair!" Emilia defended herself.

"Why, because you had some silly crush on him when you were a kid? You had a choice, Emilia. You just didn't want to take it."

"I-" Emilia sighed heavily. "He has valuable skills. Archery. Survivalism and hunting. Stealth. Poisons." She changed the subject. _She didn't address the accusation of past feelings for me._

The two continued arguing. "Oh great, so you accept a Warden into the ranks who is sneaky, knows how to kill quietly, and wants to kill you. That sounds like a wonderful idea, 'sis."

"This is no different than when we brought Zevran along with it during the Blight," Emilia retorted. There had been no pause before her reply; she was quick witted, and the conversation reminded Nathaniel of the one Emilia and he had before she conscripted him.

The king sounded as though he had anticipated this reply. "Yes it is, and you know it. Well, other than the fact that you have feelings for them both." The clamour of fists on the desk. The bark of a mabari. A masculine, frustrated sigh. "Personal feelings aside, invoking the right of conscription on your first prisoner sets a bad precedent. What of it when the bannorn finds out?"

"It was struck from the records," Warden-Commander Cousland finally spoke again. _That's surprising_ , Nathaniel noted. He didn't let his thoughts distract him as she continued. "I know how to deal with the nobles, Alistair. I've been one longer than you."

The king's response to that insult was was certainly not what Nathaniel would have expected. Most people he knew would have put her in her place. Reminded her not to talk down on them. But not King Alistair. "Yeah, well, I've been a Grey Warden longer than you so -" a sputtering sound came from inside the office. _Did the king just blow raspberries at the commander?_

Emilia attempted to stifle a snicker, but instead erupted into true, uncontrollable laughter. The king happily chuckled along with her. The petty insults and immature noises followed by the sound of hearty laughter brought a vague old memory to the front of Nathaniel's mind.

 _"You wouldn't know **Howe** to do it!"  
_ _He couldn't believe it. The five-year old daughter of his dad's best friend had made fun of him using his name.  
_ _"Yeah, well...you act more like a boy than a girl!" The eleven-year old Nathaniel attempted to get back at the teryn's daughter.  
_ _"So? I'm tougher than you any **Howe**!" The tiny brat blew a raspberry in his face, followed by a fit of uncontrollable laughter. Nathaniel had to give the kid credit - she was pretty clever for a girl of her age. Rather than be insulted, he laughed along with little Emilia Cousland._

"What're you smiling at, eh?" The guard's voice brought Nathaniel back to the present. He erased any pleasantness from his visage and scolded himself for being distracted by memories of her. _She was someone else then_ , he insisted to himself. The laughter from Emilia and the King had just died down, and Nathaniel heard Alistair say "but really" just before the guard opened his mouth to thank Nathaniel. The soldier's voice drowned out the sounds from inside the room and ruined the rogue's opportunity to continue to listen in. With the return of the guard, Nathaniel no longer had an excuse to dally in front of the Warden-Commader's office. He took his leave, vowing to himself to ask Emilia about seeing Delilah on their way to Amaranthine the next day.

* * *

 **A/N:** **I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!**

 **PS: I'm working on an AU fic based off this one - in which Emilia and Nathaniel grow up betrothed to each other. It won't be slow burn like this. ;)**


	10. Finding Delilah

**Chapter 10 - Finding Delilah**

 **A/N:** **Apologies for the delay in posting this chapter! A number of factors went into it taking awhile to get up. The biggest one, which is also good new for you, is that I ended up writing a large chunk and then figuring out where to put the breaks - meaning that the next three chapters are essentially ready to go and will be posted shortly. :) A lot of changes are coming up, so I hope you enjoy! Also, a huge thanks to my husband for helping me out with these chapters.**

* * *

Emilia rode atop her horse, her thoughts dwelling on her conversation with Alistair the day prior. She had felt the presence of a Warden just outside the door for part of their conversation. She knew that meant one of three people had been eavesdropping, it was easy for her to determine which of the three voices had spoken to the guards in hushed tones just outside the door - the smooth yet rough, leathery voice of Nathaniel Howe. She was certain Nathaniel had heard Alistair mention her past crush on him, accuse her of currently having feelings for him. But thankfully, Alistair brought out his silly self after one of her petty insults - something she never could resist laughing at.

Then Nathaniel had gone. Emilia was relieved at the absence of the Grey Warden bond from outside the room. She was then comfortable when Alistair continued the conversation, giving his advice as a Grey Warden:

 _"Send him back to the Free Marches. He can serve the Wardens there."  
_ _"No, I won't force another change upon him," she insisted.  
_ _Then Alistair had a rare moment of wisdom. "Are you certain he wouldn't rather be back there than serving under you? Consider giving him the choice, Emmy."_

But she didn't want to give him that choice. No matter how true Alistair's words rang, she was selfish and didn't want to give him up just after getting him back. _But you don't have him back. He hates you_. She reminded herself. Perhaps it would be for the best. Then her thoughts returned to her suffering order and lands. _But he knows the arling better than just about anyone. His aid will be invaluable in dealing with these darkspawn. I need his help_. She justified her selfishness with business. But no matter how many reasons she came up with to keep him around, the truth was still there under everything and she knew it: she wanted him here. She wanted to be friends again. _Perhaps even to be more than friends_. But then she lied to herself, told herself that desire was in the past. She suppressed any hope because she knew he could never love her, not after she killed his father. She would be lucky to simply have his trust. _When this is over...I'll give him a choice. I'll let him go back to the Free Marches if he so desires._

* * *

Further back in the group, Oghren shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. He grumbled, and Anders couldn't resist making a comment.

"Everything alright, dwarf?" the mage pried.

Oghren mumbled something about it being fine and Anders minding his own business, which only provoked the young mage. "You've got a rash, don't you? I can help with that you know." Anders winked at Oghren, knowing it would make the dwarf uncomfortable.

"You'll keep your hands away from my bronto!" Oghren shouted. Anders snickered and teased him more. Nathaniel used their conversation as a way to approach the Warden-Commander without the other two hearing him ask her for a favor.

Her brow was twisted, her lips turned downward, and her viridian eyes distant. Nathaniel hated to ask her this when she was in such a dismal mood, but seeing as they were approaching Amaranthine, he had no choice but to ask her now. "Warden-Commander Cousland."

Emilia visibly shook out of whatever world she had been in, answering Nathaniel's call with a simple hum.

"Sorry to distract you, ma'am," he continued respectfully, wanting to give himself the best chance at her obliging his request.

"It's alright, Warden Howe. What do you need?" She flashed her shimmering emerald eyes in his direction.

The way the sunlight caught in her eyes and made them sparkle caught Nathaniel off guard - he found that twinkle captivating. He cleared his throat and shook off the feeling. "I've heard news that my sister is alive and living in the city. Could we find her?"

Emilia smiled widely, happily, with no trace of sinister intentions on her face. Her mood had completely changed. "'Lilah is in Amaranthine! I had a feeling, but was awaiting confirmation. This is wonderful news!" the Warden-Commander beamed.

Nathaniel, confused, knotted his dark brow and voiced his skepticism of her excitement. "The last time I saw you, you wanted nothing to do with my sister. Now you have a pet name for her?"

Emilia nodded, recognizing the fairness in his confusion. "After you left, she and I grew close. At first it was simply because I would rather spend time with her than Thomas, but we ended up becoming the best of friends. 'Lilah and 'Lia, we called each other."

Nathaniel's brow remained scrunched towards the center of his forehead. "What could the two of you have possibly had in common to become so close?" he questioned critically.

"At first, nothing. But we both saw that we could learn things from the other. As I grew up, I knew I needed to behave properly in court - Delilah taught me what that mask should look like. In return, I taught her how to read people. How to influence them subtly to get what she wanted."

Nathaniel scowled. His sister had always remained the innocent member of the family. His father didn't want her involved in politics. Rendon's plan had been keep her quiet and marry her off to improve his status. She would have known nothing of manipulation if it weren't for Emilia. "You turned my sister into a monster," he accused.

The Cousland snickered. "On the contrary, Warden Howe. Your sister had no interest in using charm in any offensive manner like me." She smirked arrogantly. "I taught her how to _defend_ herself from monsters. And considering she's remained hidden so close to home all this time, I was clearly a good teacher."

* * *

As the group approached the market in Amaranthine, Nathaniel grew visibly anxious. Sweat on his brow. Stiffened shoulders. Subtle things, but Emilia noticed them. Across the way, a head of slick, shiny black hair reflected the sun. The woman it belonged to leaned over a table, writing something down. Her dark locks blocked most of her pale face. She tucked tendrils behind her ear, revealing the same silver eyes as Nathaniel. Emilia immediately recognized her friend.

Being that she was at the front of the group, Delilah first noticed Emilia when she lifted her head. "'Lia!" She smiled, warmly embracing her friend. From over Emilia's shoulder, Delilah's silver eyes found Nathaniel's matching ones. "Nathaniel," the Howe sister whispered, releasing her friend.

Emilia grinned and stepped aside, allowing the siblings to close the distance. "Maker's breath - you're alive," Nathaniel softly spoke as he held her in a tight embrace.

"I thought I would never see you again," Delilah managed, tears making it difficult for her to speak.

Nathaniel pulled back, hands on her arms. "I heard you've married a merchant. Are you happy, Delilah? We could bring you back to the Keep - "

Delilah's giggle interrupted Nathaniel's thought. "I'm very happy, Nate," she lovingly rubbed her belly. "Come, there is much to discuss." The sister turned her attention back to Emilia for a moment. "'Lia, I certainly didn't expect to find my brother in your company. It seems he and I have much catching up to do. Could I borrow him for a bit?"

Of all the Howes in Thedas, Delilah was the one Emilia knew she could always trust. "Absolutely." The Warden-Commander turned back to Nathaniel. "Anders, Oghren and I will take care of our other business in the city and come back here once we're done. That should give you enough time."

Shocked by her willingness to leave him with Delilah, Nathaniel managed a simple affirmative nod.


	11. Talks and Silence

**Chapter 11 - Talks and Silence**

 **Author's Note: The song lyrics referenced in this chapter are from "Color of Your Life" by** **Michał Szpak. It's a beautiful song with incredibly heartfelt singing; I highly recommend giving it a listen if you never have heard it before. :)**

* * *

 _Warmth._ That's the first word that came to Nathaniel's mind as they entered Delilah's home. She called for her husband, lovingly explaining that she knew it was his day off, but an extraordinary circumstance had come to light. A burly man turned the corner, and his curious expression quickly shifted to a grin. He approached Nathaniel and chuckled as he gave him a hug, patting him on the back three times. Nathaniel stood frozen in the embrace, rather unsure of how to react.

The large man spoke jovially. "Del's description of you was dead on!" he laughed. "Right down to the frown, ha!"

Nathaniel blinked and looked over to his sister. The man continued. "Name's Albert. I suppose we're brothers now."

Delilah giggled. "Yes dear. Could you please watch the shop for me while we catch up?"

"Of course, darling," the man grinned. He kissed her on the cheek as he headed out the door. "Nice to meet you, Nathaniel."

"Likewise," his leathery voice cordially replied.

Delilah invited Nathaniel to make himself at home, and the two sat in the small sitting area in the front of their home.

"I never expected to see you with Emilia, Nathaniel. Just how exactly did that happen?" His sister started the conversation with her own question, much to Nathaniel's surprise. He blamed her new inquisitive nature on Emilia's influence, but kept his cool as he explained the situation to his sister. How he had attempted to rob Vigil's Keep, and even how he'd planned to lay a trap to kill Emilia.

His sister's reaction to his admission was not at all what he had anticipated. "Cut Emilia some slack, she's been through a lot."

"And we haven't?" Nathaniel retorted, his patience wearing thin.

"You weren't here, Nate!" Delilah snapped. "You didn't see father's evil."

"Surely you're exaggerating, sister."

She shook her head back and forth. "Absolutely not. And Thomas', too. Doing every little thing father said. Mother couldn't stand it either, it's why she drank herself to death. But that was just the start," Delilah made a fist in an attempt to keep her hand from shaking. Nathaniel attempted to speak, but Delilah demanded he listen. "If you want to blame someone for destroying our family blame our father - not Emilia Cousland. Hell, blame him for destroying her's too. The man was positively evil, Nathaniel. He did horrible things. He deserved to die."

Nathaniel could see the pain in his sister's eyes - she was clearly torn up about this. "I had no idea..."

"You couldn't have," she insisted. "Father might have been hard before you left, but it was years later that he showed his true colors." She swallowed hard, tears beginning to pool in her silver eyes. "I know you never would have gone along with it. That's why he sent you to the Free Marches, I'm sure of it. To keep you away. As for me, I had to get away. After I heard what he did at Highever, I knew he was lying about why. I couldn't stand to see another moment, so I ran."

Nathaniel took his sister's hands in his own. "Please, Delilah, tell me what you are able." He silently listened as his sister explained the numerous horrible things she saw him do and heard servants and soldiers speak of. He continued to hold her hands as she struggled, fighting with herself for having to relive the moments, but also knowing that Nathaniel had to know. She even told him the truth of Thomas' death - that he had been sent to assassinate Emilia, but instead was taken out by an Antivan Crow who was traveling with her before he got the chance. Nathaniel questioned how Delilah could possibly know such a thing, and she revealed that the former Crow had stopped by Amaranthine and told her the tale himself.

"If you ask Emilia, she'll deny it happened. She has no idea that it did. But I'm sure it's true - that Crow knew too many personal details about Emilia to have not really known her."

Then, out of nowhere, Delilah chuckled. She looked down at her lap. "Goodness child, are you doing back-flips in there or what?"

Nathaniel's eyes widened. "Delilah, are you...?"

"With child, yes. Due by spring." She smiled, and the two discussed happier things for the rest of their visit, until Albert came inside to retrieve Nathaniel for Emilia.

* * *

That evening, Emilia and her three Wardens hit up a local tavern for drink and sustenance. Oghren and Anders exchanged stories with the group, eliciting a few laughs from Emilia. But Nathaniel remained silent, stoic, lost in thought. None of the crew bothered to ask him what it was about - they already had an idea.

The bard playing that night sang mostly traditional ballads, but at one point, proclaimed he was going to perform an original piece. Set at a moderate tempo, the song was supposed to have an inspirational, uplifting tone, but it was having the exact opposite effect on Emilia and Nathaniel.

 _When loneliness is knocking on your door  
_ _Everything you loved just disappears  
_ _And when you feel that everything is lost  
_ _You need to know there's no life without tears_

 _Oh, tell me black or white  
_ _What color is your life  
_ _Oh, try to ask your heart  
_ Who you really are

Emilia was doing her best to hide how bothered she was at this point. _Grey. It's fucking grey_. Between this bard's song and Nathaniel's cold demeanor, she was beginning to lose her patience. He had barely looked at her since they picked him up from Delilah's house, and hadn't even bothered to say so much as "thank you." In fact, the rogue hadn't said a word to anyone at all.

As the bard continued on with the song, singing of how one can choose who they want to be, but also not to fear one's destiny. Emilia slammed her tankard on the table. The song also evidently struck a nerve with Nathaniel, whose broody visage hardened and glare narrowed. Anders suddenly stood and approached the bard mid-song. The mage whispered something in his ear, looking over at Emilia. The musician turned slightly red, nodded, and quickly, prematurely, ended the tune he was playing. Without a preface, he began to sing a traditional ballad about Haelia Cousland and how she drove the werewolves from Highever, bringing a smile back to Emilia's face. The Warden-Commander winked to her mage companion, whispering a simple "thank you" from across the table. Anders simply nodded back, a smile strewn across his face.

* * *

The group headed to the former Howe estate within the city for the night. The home was left completely furnished, but unoccupied, save a few guards left to keep out squatters and thieves.

Upon arrival, Emilia instructed one of the guards to show Oghren and Anders to the guest chambers, requesting that he save Natheniel's old room for him. "I see no reason why you can't sleep in your old room tonight," she bluntly stated, turning to the Howe.

Taken aback, he found himself thanking her yet again. He softly murmured his appreciation, and started off in its direction.

"Wait," her voice met his ears, low and concerned.

He kept his body facing in the direction he had been walking, only turning his head over his shoulder during his reply. "It's been a long day, Commander, and if you don't mind, I would like to turn in for the night."

She nodded once, slowly, and he took another step away.

"I just wanted to ask you how your chat with Delilah went. Without the others around," her elegant timbre broke the rhythm of his footsteps again.

He stopped in his tracks, and gave her the same treatment as before. "Delilah gave me a lot to think about. She said my father deserved to die." While Nathaniel appreciated that Emilia showed him respect by not asking about this in front of the others, he wasn't able to fully discuss his feelings yet. He turned around completely, realizing the petite commander was much closer to him than he had thought. "I need time to process this."

Bravely, she placed her gloved hand on his toned upper arm. "I'm sure I'm the last person you want to talk to about it, but should you change your mind, I'm willing to listen," she offered sincerely.

Nathaniel couldn't figure Emilia out. Up until his chat with Delilah, he thought he had every reason to hate her. But now it seemed, it was the opposite. _She_ was the one who should hate _him_. A Howe man. One who admitted he had thought about killing her. Who looked up to and defended his father. His _evil_ father, by his own sister's accounts. It was too much to process, his reality turned on its head.

Though he was still clad in his armor and her hand still covered by its leather glove, the contact burned. He took her hand in his, removed it from his arm, and let it go. "Thank you, Warden-Commander Cousland," he properly responded, emotionlessly.

He turned again to leave, but her voice rang through the empty hall again. "None of this is your fault, Nathaniel. You couldn't have known when you left how much he would change."

Nathaniel stopped only briefly at the sound of her voice, but this time he offered her no reply, not even a glance. He simply resumed his gait, disappearing into the shadows of the estate's hall.


	12. Oaths of Fealty

**Chapter 12 - Oaths of Fealty**

The journey back to Vigil's Keep the next morning was filled with cold silences and avoidance of looks between Nathaniel and Emilia. Oghren wasn't in a chatty mood either, and after numerous attempts on Anders' part to make conversation with the dwarf and the archer, the mage decided to try his luck with the commander.

He rode along side her. "Hey, Em. Is it ok if I call you 'Em?'"

"No," Nathaniel answered for her from the back of the group.

Anders witnessed the emerald eye roll and then slowed his horse so he could see Nathaniel's face. The man did not look pleased. Anders was quite confused. "Um, did I miss something?"

"You can call me whatever you want, Anders," Emilia called back to him, sassy in her overruling of Nathaniel.

Nathaniel scoffed at her reply, glaring at the mage with a look that said "don't even think about it." Anders wasn't scared of Nathaniel, and was well aware which rogue he answered to. The mage caught back up to Emilia, not giving any sort of response to Nathaniel's dirty look.

"What crawled up his ass?" Anders asked her in a low voice.

"He and my brother always called me that when we were kids," Emilia replied, hiding emotion from her tone.

A simple "ah," escaped the mage, who then addressed her as "Lia" instead. Changing the subject, he asked her about the legend of Haelia Cousland. Emilia was delighted to tell him the tale, though she noted she couldn't offer much more than the bard's version from the night before. But the mage insisted, saying he wanted to hear _her_ tell the tale. Emilia was glad to oblige him; it was one of the proudest legends from her family's history, as well as one of an ancestor she greatly looked up to. She smiled proudly as she told the story. Even Oghren caught up to the pair, glad to hear his friend speaking jovially for once. It wasn't the most common occurrence, and surprisingly had become rarer with the end of the Blight.

One would have thought that the restoration of her family's name and her brother's return would have made her happy, but it didn't appear to be so. There was relief in having Fergus back, and the anger was mostly gone now, but happiness had not replaced it. The Warden-Commander was complacent to be sure, but there was no joy in what she did.

Oghren had noticed the change right away. The day after the Battle of Denerim, when it was all finally over and everyone was praising her, she was different. Distant. Whatever happiness she had finally found with her companions during their travels washed away as everyone went their separate ways. Sure, she was pleased to be reunited with Fergus, but it was also bittersweet. Everyone knew the Cousland siblings had nothing left to return to in Highever. Nothing left for them but to grieve.

And so they did, for months the two remaining Couslands hardly spoke to anyone outside of Highever at all. The day Alistair informed Emilia about the Darkspawn in Amaranthine, she was given a solid purpose again. And perhaps her new companions would bring her joy. Evidently, she was making friends with one of them already.

Anders seemed pleased to make her smile, and had been immediately comfortable around her. Emilia wondered if he meant his friendliness as flirtatiousness. She didn't think so, and unless he explicitly flirted with her, she wouldn't bother to address the fact that she saw him only has a friend.

* * *

That evening, the Great Hall of Vigil's Keep was filled with the nobles of Amaranthine, all making an appearance to swear oaths of fealty to the Warden-Commander and new Arlessa of Amaranthine, Emilia Cousland. She graciously had told Nathaniel and the others they needn't be present that evening if they wanted to rest, but the three all came anyways. Oghren stated that he thought he might get a laugh out of it, and Anders assured her that he just wanted to be there for "his friend" - and to keep a keen eye out for anything suspicious. Given that Nathaniel hadn't responded like the other two, Emilia had assumed he wouldn't be present.

But this, he had to see. His father's former vassals, those who should have been swearing to him, instead swore to her. He watched from the corner as each of them approached the Cousland, bowed to her, and made their dutiful promises. _To the victor go the spoils_ , Nathaniel thought. But then his sister's voice invaded his mind. _"If you want to blame someone for destroying our family blame our father - not Emilia Cousland."_ He sighed internally and chose to drink his wine instead of drowning in his thoughts, wondering why he had bothered to come this evening at all.

And then, the reason became painfully obvious. Though she was doing well to hide it, Nathaniel noticed the pattern in which Bann Esmerelle of The City of Amaranthine spoke with the other nobles in the room. With each new person she greeted, she made her way closer to Nathaniel. Finally, she pretended she had just spotted him, trying to hide the fact that addressing him had been her intended purpose all along.

"Oh, Nathaniel, is that you? Nathaniel Howe?" she softly spoke, scampering closer to him.

"Bann Esmerelle," Nathaniel greeted, his leathery voice proper and aristocratic as he bowed. "A pleasure to see you again."

"Oh believe me, the pleasure is all mine, my dear. Come, let us catch up," she offered her arm, and Nathaniel took it, as was proper. The two walked the length of the hall together, making idle chit-chat until they stopped by the portrait of his mother. Esmerelle sighed. "I do miss your mother. And your father." The woman looked over her shoulder before lowering her tone. "There are many here who would see a Howe put back on top in Amaranthine. Who would aid you in taking your rightful place as the ruler over these lands."

Nathaniel offered no words, only a simple smirk in response. The bann smiled, released his arm, and patted him on the back. "I'll be in touch, dear," she concluded, returning to the other guests of the gathering, playing the game as if she hadn't just proposed high treason.

The evening had certainly given the Howe much to consider.


	13. A Pivotal Decision

**Chapter 13 - A Pivotal Decision**

Nathaniel laid awake in the darkness of the barracks, staring at the ceiling. _You aren't going to find any answers up there, you know,_ he reminded himself, turning on his side again. For many hours he had been up trying to decide if he should tell Emilia about what Bann Esmerelle told him or not. He could just let it ride out, see what happened. Maybe even become arl like he should be. Or, it could all come back to bite him in the ass if it were discovered he was in on it. But either way, Emilia's death didn't guarantee him getting the arling back anyways; Nathaniel knew King Alistair was already suspicious of him.

Or maybe he should sleep on it. Besides, someone else probably heard about it; Esmerelle hadn't exactly been discreet with Nathaniel last night. Maybe Emilia would bring it up tomorrow and Nathaniel's decision would be made for him. _Or maybe she'll end up accusing you for not saying something yourself._

 _"Hell, blame him for destroying her life too."_

Delilah's words again. That conversation had clearly affected Nathaniel more than he anticipated. He thought talking with his sister would give his feelings validation, but all she did instead was stomp on them. As Nathaniel reflected on the words, he began to realize she was right. The Emilia Cousland he was working for now was not the girl he remembered from the past. His best friend's kid sister had been so full of life. She loved to joke, had a playful sarcastic sense of humor, and typically had a smile or smirk of some sort plastered across her face. The Emilia he had seen since his return to Fereldan had clearly retained her intellect and cleverness, but the brightness that used to accompany those viridian eyes had dulled. It wasn't that she exuded melancholy, just a lack of life. She was much more reserved, quiet, and cautious than the Emilia he remembered. The adventurous girl had been replaced with a soldier. An extraordinary soldier, to be sure, but one whose spirit had been diminished.

 _"You can always trust me, Nate."_

A tiny voice voicing such a mature sentiment, a fragment of a memory from long ago rose from the ashes of his scattered brain.

 _The hunting trip_ , Nathaniel recalled. It had been during a summer long ago, before he left Fereldan for the Free Marches. He must have been eighteen or so, and spent a good month of the summer in Highever with the Couslands, particularly Fergus. There had been many hunting trips, but Emilia managed to coerce her way onto one of them. She was about twelve, still very young, and not at all skilled with a bow, but she really wanted to go. She had convinced Fergus and Nathaniel that it would be good practice for her. She argumed that she was light enough on her feet and sneaky enough that she wouldn't scare anything off, and promised she would only shoot at prey if Fergus gave her a wink. The whole trip she stuck to that promise, and Fergus gave her many opportunities to practice. Nathaniel smiled at the memory, remembering how excited Emilia had been when she got her first doe. She had thanked him, reminded him that it was _he_ who had bothered to take the time to teach her archery at all.

Later that night, Fergus and Nathaniel got into an argument. A rare occurrence, to be sure, and one probably influenced by the empty bottle of brandy by the fire. Emilia was supposed to be asleep in her tent, but the two spoke too loudly, causing her to wake. Fergus had his back to Emilia's tent, and hadn't noticed the pair of emerald green eyes peering out of it. Nathaniel decided it best to allow Fergus to win the argument so that it didn't escalate into something neither of them would be proud of. He didn't even remember what they fought about that night, only Emilia's concerned, judging, glowing eyes. Nathaniel had convinced Fergus to go to bed, promising that he would clean up the campsite and head to his tent.

But as he passed Emilia's to get to his, her flap opened, and she caught him by the ankle.

 _"You were right, you know. And I know what you did, letting Ferg win so I wouldn't see you fight. That was very noble of you. He has a bit of a temper sometimes, I know. He's working on it." The young girl whispered, wise beyond her age. He didn't reply, afraid that his deeper voice might wake Fergus where her's did not. She hadn't yet released his ankle, so he stood still, listening to what else she had to say. "Anyways, I know you never lose debates, and Fergus won't remember this one in the morning. Your secret is safe with me. You can always trust me, Nate." Her mischievous eye winked just before releasing his ankle._

For as persistent, stubborn, clever, and manipulative as she could be, Nathaniel realized that Emilia Cousland never once betrayed his confidence. Many times she caught him getting into trouble he shouldn't have been in. She would simply wink at him, her sign to him that she would never tell. In more than one instance, she ended up being scolded and punished because she kept her word, and in some cases, even lied to protect him and Fergus.

Nathaniel sighed, rolled out of bed, and began to dress. No matter what he predicted could happen with this new knowledge, he came back to one simple truth: Emilia had always protected him in the past, and now it was his turn to return the favor. He had chosen to trust her in his youth, and again with Delilah in Amaranthine. Never had she once betrayed his trust, even when he had given her no reason to keep it.

Tonight, he would.

* * *

Nathaniel crept up to Emilia's bedroom door. As was to be expected at this hour of the night, no light came from under it. _This looks bad_ , he thought. If he was caught showing up at her bedroom in the middle of the night, it could only look like one thing. He sighed softly, stopping in front of the wooden barrier. He tapped quietly on it three times, and waited for a response.

A mabari's growl and bark was his answer, followed by some light clamoring. Worry struck Nathaniel's heart. _What if I'm too late?_ Instinctively, he reached for his lock pick and began to coerce the door to open. He felt a slight click as the tumblers fell into their proper places, and slowly, carefully, he lowered the handle.

* * *

The growl of a mabari startled Emilia from her slumber. "What is it, Oscar?" she whispered as he barked. Panic hit her as the parallels from the fateful night in Highever fell into place.

 _"What is it, Oliver? No, something's wrong. He doesn't do this, Dairren. Hide under the bed."_

Taking her own past advice, Emilia grabbed the dagger from under her pillow, rolled off her bed, and slid herself beneath it. She worked hard to slow and steady her breaths, to move past the anxiety she felt. Soft clicking sounds characteristic of a lock being picked filled the room. As she calmed, she realized what else her senses were telling her. She could feel him: a Grey Warden was just outside her door, and she only knew one who could pick locks.

"On my order only, Oscar," she breathed to the well-trained mabari.

* * *

The room was pitch black as Nathaniel silently slid into it, leaving the door cracked open behind him.

"Emilia?" he whispered to the black. "Emilia, it's Nathaniel. I know it's late but this couldn't wait until morning." He strained his eyes, trying to search the dark room for her. He found her mabari, snarling at him ready to pounce.

"It's alright, Oscar," her muffled voice pierced the silence. The pup turned his head to the side and whined curiously. "Go lay down, boy," she finished her order. The pup headed towards his bed by the window. Just then, the clouds shifted, allowing moonlight to fill the bedroom. The soft light revealed Emilia as she came to her feet, standing just next to the bed dressed in her nightclothes, dagger in hand. "What do you want, Nathaniel?" The darkness in her voice caught him off guard. "Or have you come to kill me?"

Her accusing tone and words were not at all what Nathaniel expected. She had been patient and understanding, even kind to him thus far. "Th-that's not it," he stuttered. He swallowed the lump of nerves that had choked his throat. _This is clearly the wrong time_. "Never mind. It can wait until morning," he turned on his heel and headed back towards the door.

Cold fingers wrapped around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. "No, stay." Emilia insisted. She reached behind him and closed the door. "Explain." She pointed to the pair of chairs that faced the window. Nathaniel chose the one that wasn't next to the mabari's bed.

After waiting for Emilia to sit in the other one, Nathaniel sighed and explained that Bann Esmerelle had approached him. "She means to have you killed, Emilia."

"I know," she replied slyly. Nathaniel scolded himself. _Of course she already knows._

"My life changed completely a year and a half ago, you know." Emilia started, opening up. "Up until then, my biggest concern was who the next suitor my parents would invite to Highever would be." The two exchanged a soft chuckle, but Emilia's brief smile barely lasted a second before it instantaneously turned to a frown. Her timbre darkened yet again. "But then in one night, everything was gone. Ripped away by a fucking traitor." Her voice remained eerily level, unnerving as her gaze shifted away from Nathaniel and out the window. Nathaniel swallowed, remaining silent as Emilia continued. "I survived the sacking of Highever because of skill and luck. Without any choice given, I joined the Grey Wardens, and Maker willing, survived the Joining. Then I survived yet another betrayal at Ostagar, so soon after being fooled in Highever." She laughed at herself. "I was saved by a witch, no less. She turned into a giant bird and plucked Alistair and me off that tower, and if she hadn't, a blighted ogre would have killed us both. Should have. Sometimes I wonder if I should have just died one of those nights."

"But I didn't," Emilia kept her eyes focused on the night sky as she spoke. "And ever since then, I vowed to myself that I would never be betrayed like that again; that information, secrets, were worth more than anything in the game of survival. Since then, I've made it my mission to have eyes and ears in as many places as possible. Especially in circumstances like tonight." She flickered her gaze back to Nathaniel. "Tell me, Nathaniel Howe, why did you come to my quarters in the middle of the night with this information?" She hummed inquisitively, but didn't allow him to respond. "Or did you simply want to make me feel comfortable, safe, around you? It was _you_ who taught me that the best way to hunt is to make your prey feel safe just before it's killed."

That's when he noticed the dagger still firmly gripped in her hand. He sighed. She was right to be suspicious of him, and he knew it. He had given her absolutely no reason to trust him thus far. He had shut her out when she invited him in. After she so graciously allowed him to spend time with his sister, had refused to discuss his conversation with Delilah with her. He knew that likely roused suspicion on its own, but coupled with what happened earlier that night most certainly cast him in an even darker light. He swallowed, cleared his throat, and started to explain. Not really knowing what he was going to say when he first opened his mouth, he went with his gut.

"When I talked to my sister, things didn't go as I thought they would," he began. "She told me that my father was responsible for ruining so many lives. And not just mine and hers, but yours most of all. She told me he deserved to die. I didn't believe her at first. I didn't want to believe her." Emilia's gaze shifted away from him and down to her lap, her brow furrowed. Nathaniel sighed yet again, frustrated with the whole situation. "Sure, he was harsh and ambitious before I left, but I never expected this." Emilia patiently listened, not saying a word or making a sound, even in as he took an extended pause. She just waited for him to speak again. "Everything I knew turned upside down the other day, and..." His voice trailed off as it hit him.

 _Everything she knew turned upside down one night. Because of my father. And it wasn't just news about something that happened when she was out of the country. She lived it._

"I'm sorry," the sudden words flowed naturally, sincerely from Nathaniel's heart. Emilia's stare pierced his silver eyes, shocked with his unanticipated shift in demeanor. Nathaniel continued his apology. "I'm sorry for what he did. I'm sorry for not trusting you, for not believing you. All my life you looked out for me, my best friend's kid sister, and I've done a shitty job returning the favor so far." He stood, still facing her. "I promise to do better from now on." Emilia swallowed hard, but an unwelcome tear streamed down her cheek anyways. Unsure of how to react to it, Nathaniel pretended he hadn't noticed. "If you don't trust me, lock me back up." He took a knee in front of her. "But know that I, Nathaniel Howe, swear fealty to you, Emilia Cousland, Arlessa of Amaranthine."

Emilia voiced a simple "thank you, Nathaniel" as he looked up at her. As she took a second to regain her composure, their eyes met. In the brief moment they held each other's gaze, numerous emotions flashed through her viridian orbs. Melancholy. Calculating. Caution. Perhaps even a hint of joy just before she flickered her gorgeous green eyes away. "If you'll excuse me, it's rather late, and we're to leave in the morning for the Wending Woods."

Nathaniel nodded as he stood, and headed for the door. Before he reached it, her voice caught his attention once more.

"Oh, and Nathaniel," she rose from her chair, the dagger finally no longer in her hand. "You'll play along with Bann Esmerelle's game. It will be the best way to strike her and her co-conspirators down," she stated as if giving an order.

Surprised, he turned to face her yet again. "You trust me enough to do that and not double-cross you?" he asked, skeptical given her behavior when he had first entered the room.

She nodded once, slowly. "I do," she simply affirmed him.

Emilia Cousland was an enigma to Nathaniel, impossible to figure out. His only response to the order and sudden shift in her demeanor was a simple bow of his head.

He turned to depart from her quarters. Upon reaching the door, Nathaniel noticed that it was cracked open ever so slightly. Not having to open the door made it easier to slip out. He paused once he was outside the room, an odd realization coming to his mind. _Emilia shut that door - why was it open?_ As he lingered ever so slightly in his escape, a sharp breath came from inside the room, followed by soft weeping. Nathaniel blinked slowly, and found himself having to block out the unexpected desire to rush back in the room and wipe the tears from her cheek. The mystery of the door had been forgotten as he quickly departed for the barracks.


	14. Wending Friendship

**Chapter 14 - Wending Friendship**

 **A/N: Sorry for the gap in the update! At least the chapter is of decent length. :) Also, if you're enjoying this story, you might want to check out my new one with these two "Betrothed." It's a canon-divergent AU in which they're promised to each other since their youth. Emilia will not end up becoming a Warden, but that doesn't mean her life is easy, either! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thanks for reading along!**

* * *

As the four Grey Wardens traveled to the Wending Woods, Oghren rode up front with Emilia, which left Anders in back with Nathaniel. The mage kept giving the rogue sideways glances as if debating on striking up a conversation. Exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before, Nathaniel was pleased that Anders had opted to stay quiet thus far - silent with the exception of his current obsession with eating apples. The mage had been taking a bite every few moments, spaced out just so that when Nathaniel thought the obnoxious crisp sounds were finally over, they struck again. In the silence that followed Anders' most recent bite, fatigue finally caught up with Nathaniel so much that he unintentionally let out a yawn.

"Long night?" Anders pried, jumping at the opportunity to open a discussion.

"Something like that." Nathaniel replied, grumpy and short, his tone clearly indicating that he did not wish to elaborate.

Anders took another bite of his apple. "I've been unusually hungry lately. And not just for food," the mage winked.

Nathaniel ignored Anders' comment. As disinterested as the rogue was in talking about anything right now, that particular line of conversation with this particular person was one he absolutely did not want to partake in; Nathaniel had no desire to hear of Anders' sexual escapes today.

Much to the Howe's dismay, Anders spoke up again. "You know, you weren't the only one to sneak out last night." He crunched again, speaking with apple still in his mouth. "I noticed your bunk was empty when I came down from mine."

Nathaniel glared, displeased with Anders' general lack of manners. "So what?"

"So, you did the right thing." Anders proclaimed as if Nathaniel knew exactly what he was talking about. The mage continued to eat his apple, purposely not elaborating on his statement.

The lack of clarity, insinuations, and desire for Anders' to stop chewing left Nathaniel rather irritated. Knowing he was taking the bait, the Howe voiced his inquiry. "And just how do you know what I was up to last night?"

 _Crunch, crunch, crunch_ was all Nathaniel got in response initially. He scoffed and shook his head, giving up on getting any answer from the mage. _He's pissing me off on purpose_ , Nathaniel reflected. _To get me to to talk._

"Because I followed you," Anders finally voiced, throwing the core of the apple aside.

The circumstances of Nathaniel's departure from Emilia's quarters the night before clicked into place. _The cracked door_. Anders being there would certainly explain why it had been opened again, but the rogue couldn't believe that the mage was sneaky enough to get by him. Pride laced Nathaniel's reaction. "No way, I would have noticed." He called Anders' bluff, ignoring evidence to the contrary.

The blonde mage chuckled boastfully. "I snuck out of The Circle a dozen times. I'm pretty sneaky for a mage."

"Hrmph." Nathaniel couldn't admit that Anders, loud and silly Anders had managed to follow him last night.

"It's good you told her, you know," Anders continued, the sincerity in his voice bringing Nathaniel back from his contemplation. Nathaniel raised his brow, and so Anders' elaborated. "About Bann Esmerelle."

Nathaniel snorted a short laugh, incredulous. "Let me guess, you were the one to tell her before I got the chance to?"

"Bingo."

"Bullshit."

"Believe me or not, I don't care." Anders' left things off, silence indicating annoyance with his new friend's lack of belief in his abilities.

The four continued to ride in silence for awhile, still in the same formation as before. Anders' had thankfully run out of apples, giving Nathaniel a much needed break from the incessant chewing. The things Anders said continued to bother Nathaniel, to the point where he decided to ask Anders more. But Nathaniel had to wait for an opportunity - he didn't want to bring up the sensitive topic while Emilia and Oghren were quiet. As soon as they resumed their conversation, Nathaniel made his move.

"Just why exactly were you eavesdropping on us? It was a private conversation," the rogue interrogated the mage.

Anders chortled. "Do you really have to ask? Knowing what I knew? I had to make sure she was safe," he asserted.

 _Does no one trust me?_ Nathaniel immediately felt defensive. "Oh really? You? Just who is she to you?"

"Um, my _friend_?" Anders answered without hesitation in the form of a rhetorical question. "And you know, considering how she's treated you, you ought to say the same."

"It's complicated," Nathaniel retorted.

"Only because you make it," Anders stung back.

Oghren looked back at the pair suspiciously. Their voices had evidently raised, meaning Oghren and Emilia had likely heard at least part of their conversation. The pair let out a synchronous sigh, which was followed by yet another a long silence between the two men. The other two Wardens were still talking about something which seemed to be rather personal to Oghren, leaving Nathaniel and Anders with no way out from each other.

This time it was Anders' turn to yawn and Nathaniel's to pounce.

"So you were up late to keep tabs on me, then?" Nathaniel scathed, his eyes narrowed.

"Actually, no," Anders smiled, diffusing Nathaniel's hostility. "Following you was more of a coincidental whim; I had other reasons for leaving last night." He chuckled. "An _appetite_ that absolutely had to be sated," the mage offered freely.

Nathaniel did the math quickly. "With Emilia?" He exclaimed under his breath, thinking aloud, immediately wishing he could take it back. _I really shouldn't care who she sleeps with._

"Maker, no!" Anders cackled.

Nathaniel sighed, relieved, though he wasn't sure why. He chose not to pry any further; he really didn't need to know.

But the mage continued, yet again telling the rogue more than he needed to know. "Garevel," Anders muttered lustfully, a smirk drawn from ear to ear.

Nathaniel groaned, frustrated. "And just why are you telling me this?"

"You keep this secret of mine, and I'll keep one of yours later," the mage winked. "That's what friends do, right? I'm pretty terrible at this friends thing, I know."

Nathaniel smirked back at Anders. "Fair enough, and same here." The two exchanged a laugh. The friendship they were developing was odd to be sure, but Nathaniel appreciated it anyways. Though, sometimes he did wish Anders would just shut up. _At least we cleared the air about last night._

A little while after the conversation came to a close, the group finally reached the woods.

* * *

The Wardens' adventure in the Wending Wood had certainly been nothing like they expected. They predicted that darkspawn, or perhaps even bandits, were the cause of the ambushes on the caravans - but it turned out to be one furious Dalish elf. Velanna had every reason to be upset due to the destruction of her clan, and it took some impressive coercing on Emilia's part to get her to back down. Eventually, the elf joined the four Wardens as they headed into the nearby mine to deal with the culprit of the murder of the elves - darkspawn.

Once inside the mine, the group had yet another surprise. They met The Architect, a rather intelligent darkspawn leader who _spoke_ to them. On top of that shock, the darkspawn leader then managed to knock out and capture the group, and stripped them of all their gear. Under Emilia's effective, calm, and stealthy guidance, the Wardens and the elf managed to recover their things and fight their way out.

Nightfall was upon them as they made their escape from the mine, and therefore the group traveled only a short distance to the outskirts of the woods. Their horses were thankfully still waiting for them, and so the Wardens set up camp for the night.

They sat around the camp fire with their new companion Velanna, nearing the end of their simple meal of rations. The elf thanked the group, and went on to admit how impressed she was with how the situation was handled. "When we woke up in those dungeons, I was sure we were done for," Velanna concluded.

Emilia sharpened her smallest dagger as she replied. "It's not the first time I've escaped captivity," she noted with the slightest air of pride.

"Ha!" Oghren guffawed. "That's right! You weaseled your way out of Fort Drakon just after -" a side punch from Emilia stopped his line of speech. "Erm, I mean just before the Landsmeet," Oghren grumbled.

Nathaniel's shoulders and neck tensed slightly as Oghren neared his point, but relaxed when Emilia encouraged the dwarf not to mention Rendon's death.

"Fort Drakon? As in the one in Denerim? Isn't it huge?" Anders asked.

Emilia nodded. "That's the one. The largest in Ferelden." She went on to tell the story of how her and Alistair poised as guards to escape. Oghren laughed and noted that he and Wynne had barely made it to the fort's gate when the pair emerged, decked out from head to toe in armor.

"I only knew it was them because Emilia winked at me," the dwarf chuckled. "What guard winks at a dwarf?"

Emilia laughed and pointed at Oghren. "Wynne's the one who figured it out! You said those exact words to her and continued towards the gates! I'm not sure what would have happened if she hadn't grabbed you by the arm and turned you two around!"

Oghren laughed at himself with the group, but swore that he would have figured it out on his own if he had only been given even a moment to process it.

Velanna, incredulous, voiced an inquiry to Oghren. "Wait - you were willing to attempt to infiltrate the largest stronghold in Ferelden to attempt to rescue her?" The elf gestured to Emilia, astounded by his loyalty.

Anders interjected. "Funny thing about Emilia - she has a knack of winning people over."

"Plus, she actually listens, and she'll never betray your trust," Oghren elaborated.

"I'm right here, you know," Emilia added. She put her weapon away and spoke up again. "I'm flattered, really, but I'm just trying to keep more people from suffering." It didn't need to be said that she had suffered enough herself.

Wanting to lighten the mood, Oghren poked fun at Anders over his cat whispering abilities. There had been one in the mine's dungeons that insisted on following him around as they struggled to escape. The cat wouldn't be left alone, and oddly followed Anders nearly exactly - sneaking when he snuck, staying still when he froze, and the cat even hissed when Anders entered combat. The very same little guy now sat in Anders lap, meowing as the group laughed and reflected lightly on the situation earlier that day.

Seeing opportunity to tease Anders for once instead of the other way around, Nathaniel finally spoke up, sarcasm thick in his voice. "Are you sure you aren't part cat, mage?"

Anders chuckled. "I'm certainly not as sneaky as you, 'Lia, or my new little friend here, but I'll gladly take the compliment!" He scratched the happy cat on his head with affection.

Nathaniel became silent again as the group moved on to the next humorous topic of the evening. He found it odd that they could speak so lightly of everything that just happened, and so soon afterwards.

This time, Anders poked fun of Oghren for his pink smallclothes, which had been revealed to the group while they were in the dungeons. Oghren insisted they used to be white, and turned pink due to a _magical laundry mishap_. Velanna cackled at this and asserted that there's nothing magic about laundry. Emilia explained that Ogrhen's smalls had been washed with Wynne's red robes once.

"Hence the magical mishap," she giggled.

Tired of being the end of the jokes for the night, Oghren steered the conversation towards Emilia. "Did anyone else notice how much was more pissed she was about Nathaniel's bow being stolen than her own gear?" The dwarf laughed, not paying attention to his comrade's reaction. "I mean, did you see her? _GIVE THAT BOW BACK_!" He cracked up, stopping only when Anders elbowed him.

Everyone, save the dwarf, saw it - the look on Emilia's face as Oghren called her out. Her emerald eyes fixed on Nathaniel. Her hands fidgeted nervously with each other - a very uncharacteristic gesture for the self-assured commander. Her brow and lips flattened into an obviously forced neutral expression. She may have been successful in hiding emotion those facial features - but not by her eyes. They were filled with longing, loving or something in between.

Anders cleared his throat, breaking the silent tension, and announced he was retiring for the evening. He offered his tent to Velanna, who refused to take it all to herself, stating that it was plenty large enough for them to share it. As she turned to enter the tent, Nathaniel mouthed "behave" to Anders, who rolled his eyes and mouthed "not touching crazy" back. Anders then shot Oghren a dirty look and jerked his head towards the dwarf's tent, who then also announced he was going to hit the sack. This left just Emilia and Nathaniel sitting on opposite sides of the fire.

The Cousland stood. "You take first watch, I'll go fetch a bit more firewood." She didn't wait for any confirmation from Nathaniel. Knowing the order would be followed, Emilia turned on her heel and vanished into the night.

* * *

The Howe rogue struggled to maintain focus during his watch. Emilia had been gone for quite some time, but he hadn't heard anything to cause concern. It was rather dark, and finding more firewood was probably just taking awhile. Nathaniel stared at the fire, failing in his attempt to erase the image of Emilia's visage from when Oghren had teased her about her concern for his bow.

 _What was that look, anyways? Care? Concern? Embarrassment? She was trying to hide something. Everyone saw that. It had to be why they all left._

There was a slight shift in the brush. Nathaniel grabbed his bow, aimed and readied it to fire.

Emilia emerged from the wilderness, her arms encumbered by firewood. Wind tore at the flames, blowing them toward Emilia, illuminating her further. Her chocolate braid flowed in the breeze, her emerald eyes reflected the citrine light, and a smirk graced her face. For the first time, Nathaniel noticed how pretty she was. He immediately discounted the thought.

The gorgeous rogue stopped and cocked her head, twisting her brow in mock confusion. Nathaniel realized he still had his bow aimed at her, and let out a soft, nervous chuckle as he lowered it. Emilia grinned as she set down the firewood and tended to the flames. She then sat directly next to Nathaniel. He wasn't sure why she was still there. _This is awkward. Should I say something to her? What is there even to say? Why is she staying up with me?_

After a few more moments of uncomfortable silence, Nathaniel went with his last thought. "You can get some rest if you want, you know. I can handle first watch on my own."

Emilia poked at the fire. "Oh, I know," she grinned.

"Then why are you still up?" Nathaniel interrogated, sounding harsher than intended. _Why did you ask?_ He mentally chided himself for being nosy.

"I thought we could talk," she glowed, her tone uncharacteristically soft and sweet.

Nathaniel swallowed hard. He couldn't block out the recognition of how beautiful she looked, which made him strangely uncomfortable. _I'm never like this around women. So what if she's pretty? She's the Warden Commander. Perhaps her rank is what's making me struggle with dealing with the fact that I find her attractive. Or the fact that she's a Cousland. Or both. Get over it, Nathaniel._

Despite the million thoughts running through his mind, her warm smile encouraged him to reply. "About?" His leathery voice plainly asked.

"I…" She sighed heavily, but managed to keep her speech pleasant and light. "I wanted to apologize for the other night."

Nathaniel was astounded. "You? Apologize to me? For the night when I snuck into your room?"

Emilia nodded. "I wasn't in my right mind. I shouldn't have questioned your loyalty."

Her eyes met him, sincere and searching his for a reaction.

"You had every right to question it," Nathaniel argued. He blinked uncomfortably and looked away. _She really is beautiful. No, confounding. She's confounding._

"Perhaps," Emilia kept her gaze on him. "But I also have very good instincts. I'm very good at reading people. At knowing who I can and can't trust."

"You don't need to apologize," Nathaniel insisted, daring to look her in the eye.

Emilia smiled. "Fine then." She paused, and the grin fell from her face. "Let me tell you a story instead."

Nathaniel studied her face, puzzled by the sudden change. He noticed how pleasantly full and sweetly shaped her lips were - and tore his eyes away from them just as quickly as those thoughts had come.

"It will...shed some light on why I acted as I did the other night," Emilia continued. "It won't be easy for you to hear, and I understand if you don't want to."

He crossed his brow. Something that would be difficult for him to hear would be even harder for her to say. But here she was, in all her emotional fortitude, ready to unleash her demons in front of him. He nodded - if she could brave to breach this subject, then so could he.

"My last night at Highever. Well, the last night it felt like home. I think you know which night I'm talking about."

"The night my father betrayed your family," Nathaniel clarified in hushed tones.

"Yes," Emilia affirmed. She went on to explain how she became aware of what was happening. How it was the middle of the night. How she had been awaken by her mabari's bark. How dark the room had been.

"That's why you were so on edge when I came by the other night," Nathaniel empathetically interjected, remembering how her mabari had been acting.

She nodded, confirming his assessment. "But that's enough for one night. Perhaps someday I'll tell you the rest. When we're both ready." She forced a slight smile.

Nathaniel shifted his head from side to side, closed his eyes and lowered his brow. "There's something I don't understand," he breathed.

Emilia looked at him, concerned. "What is it?"

"You." Nathaniel hesitated. "You speak to me as if we're friends. You're honest, kind. You do me favors. You trust me. Confide in me. I just don't see how I've earned any of that."

She shook her head. "Who says you had to earn it? We were friends once. You swore to me you had nothing to do with what your father did, and I believe you. I don't see how you've betrayed my trust."

"I admitted that I thought about trying to kill you," he noted.

"But you didn't." Emilia stressed. She sighed a chuckle. "Nathaniel, I've _thought_ about killing a lot of people. But _thinking_ about it and _trying to do it_ are two completely different things. Not to mention that you confessed that to me unprovoked, while you were completely at my mercy. If nothing else, that showed me how honest you are."

"I..." Nathaniel hadn't thought of it that way, but she was right. "Thank you."

The Cousland stood and brushed herself off. Nathaniel followed suit and spoke up before she turned to leave. "Emilia."

"Yes?" She faced him again, her green eyes twinkling in the twilight.

"When I returned from the Free Marches, I was certain that my family was destroyed for being on the wrong side of the war. But my father did it to himself. No conspiracies, just one stupid, selfish man. I should have known better. I was an idiot, and like a child I blamed you and the Wardens."

Emilia stared at him, simply listening as he spoke from his heart.

"You said that we were once friends, and you still treat me as such. Is...is that what you want? For us to be friends again?" He added a final thought, a sort of caveat to leave her a way out in the event he was incorrect in this assessment. "Or am I reading that wrong, too?"

The slowing growing gorgeous upturn of her lips answered his question before her voice gave it life. "Friends, yes," she simply breathed.

"Good," he exhaled, relieved. "I'm glad that's settled."

Nathaniel was certain he caught a glimpse of a blush before she nodded and turned away. _It was probably just the fire._ He had something else he wanted to say, and thus interrupted her retreat with his leathery voice. "You know, when you conscripted me, I would not have thought I'd end up liking it." He smiled. Nathaniel hoped she would turn around again; he wanted to know if she really had blushed or not.

Looking back just over her shoulder, Emilia gave him another nod before turning away yet again. She hadn't shown enough of her face to confirm his suspicion, and her lack of doing so only fueled it more.

He stifled the urge the snicker at the parallels between tonight at the night they were in the city. He used his husky vocals to stop her in her tracks one last time.

"Good night, Em."

Unlike Nathaniel's cold treatment to her back in Amaranthine, Emilia turned towards him. She had managed to erase the blush that he suspected had been there before, replacing it with a grin.

"Good night, Nate." She winked at him and was off to her tent.

Nathaniel groaned as he sat back down by the fire.

" _You're my new favorite Howe."_ Nathaniel recalled Emilia's proclamation from all those years ago.

 _I wonder if that's still true...my new favorite Cousland._

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry if this chapter was a bit dialogue heavy! Please let me know what you think! :)**


	15. Scandals

**Chapter 15 - Scandals**

 **A/N: I know, I know. It's been awhile since I've updated. I'm sorry! Writer's block and various distractions and ugh. Thank you all for the positive reviews and comments on the last chapter - I hope to have the next one of this up sooner than I did this one! :) A huge thanks to bioticsandheadshots for beta-reading this chapter for me! 3**

* * *

The Grand Hall of Vigil's Keep was already filled with Emilia's vassals upon the Wardens' return from the Wending Woods. Their mission had taken longer than planned, resulting in her being late for court. Though she had plenty of dirt and dried blood covering her skin and armor, Warden-Commander Cousland strutted up to the front of the hall as if she was perfectly clean and in an elegant gown. Her prideful battle-worn appearance was certainly an intimidating one.

There were a great deal of complaints and requests to deal with, as well as some crimes to judge. Emilia addressed those with the smaller claims first, hoping to thin out the crowds a bit. She did so justly, but mercifully. The seasoned warrior's patience waned when a noble woman scrunched her nose at Emilia's foul after-battle scent, but the young arlessa managed to keep her composure. She had learned to mask her impatience and distaste for rudeness.

After dealing with a number of the small complaints, Emilia felt a Warden presence join her in the hall. _Perfect,_ she mused and suppressed the smirk that played at her lips, taking care not to show the crowd any interest in the new arrival. Her emerald eyes scanned the room to make sure it was the Warden she was expecting. For the briefest second, her gaze met silver eyes. She looked away from Nathaniel as quickly as she found him, continuing her scan without lingering. Doing so could ruin their plan. Nathaniel was to chat up the nobles who lingered or were waiting for an audience, in hopes that some news of the conspiracy against Emilia would surface. If anyone thought that he felt anything other than contempt for her, the plan would undoubtedly fail. He watched her with a judgmental grimace, playing his part all too well as she moved on to the larger issues of the evening.

* * *

Once all the guests had departed and the keep had quieted down for the night, Nathaniel made his way up towards Emilia's office and quarters. He wasn't surprised when the light beneath the first door, her office, was dark - it had been a long few days and they were all in need of rest. He made his way down the hall to the next room, her personal quarters, candlelight flickering in the crack between the door and the wooden floor. This would be the second time now he had visited her room unsolicited at night, and again due to the brewing conspiracy against her. _At least she's awake this time,_ he reassured himself, straightened his posture, and knocked lightly, but decisively on the door.

"Come in," her voice cooed from within. Nathaniel found it odd that she didn't ask who was on the other side before inviting the visitor in.

Upon opening the door, a large tub full of bathwater was before him. The water was sudsy, as if it had already been used. A damp towel was on the floor to the right of it. Curiously, his eyes trailed off further in that direction, landing upon the form of a gorgeous brunette sitting at her vanity, wrapped in a royal blue silk robe. The back had a silver griffon elegantly embroidered into it, and the same silver thread decorated the trim of the robe. The wearer of the elaborate garment ran a comb through her long, damp tresses, and set it back upon the vanity. She looked into the mirror, using its reflection to spy upon her visitor.

Nathaniel snapped back to his senses upon meeting those emerald eyes in the reflection. He looked down at his feet and cleared his voice. "Pardon me, Warden-Commander. I can come back later." Embarrassed, he turned to leave.

"It's alright, Nate." The sweetness and familiarity with which she addressed him set him at ease. "I had a feeling it was you," she continued.

When Nathaniel turned around to face her again, he found Emilia still sitting in the exact manner as before, though her nimble fingers were now expertly braiding her hair. "So," Emilia spoke up again, her voice changing to a more businesslike timbre. "I take it that what you learned couldn't wait until morning."

"It could not," Nathaniel confirmed. "Tomorrow at first light, members of the conspiracy are leaving Amaranthine to meet at Lerchmeyer Farm. It's about halfway between here and the city, though about an hour closer to the city than here."

"I recall passing by it," Emilia noted as she continued to braid her hair.

"I've been asked to be there. They must be close to striking if they're ready to risk my deceiving you to attend a meeting." Concern was thick in Nathaniel's timbre - more so than he intended.

Emilia tied off the end of her braid and stood to face Nathaniel. His eyes started to wander down her neck, to the space on her chest that the robe failed to cover. A patch of her smooth, fair skin was visible, and without thinking his eyes lingered there for just a moment, curious about what would be revealed it the robe slipped.

"Well then," Emilia lilted, her coy tone cutting through his lecherous thoughts. Nathaniel's eyes snapped back up to find her smirking, a hint of flirtation in her lips. "I suppose you'll just have to go."

* * *

Nathaniel wasn't sure if that grin was because of her clever plan or his lecherous gaze. Either way, he decided not to dwell on it.

Dew still coated the tall grasses of Lerchmeyer farm when Nathaniel arrived early that morning for the meeting. The stable was filled with the guests' horses, and a pair of brutes stood at the door to the farm house. Nathaniel left his steed with the others and approached, sauntering arrogantly. After a brief, but intense stare, the guards let the rogue in without a word needing to be said.

"Ah, Nathaniel! So glad you could make it!" Esmerelle greeted him warmly, kissing his cheek with friendly familiarity.

Nathaniel returned the gesture with a smile. "Apologies on my late arrival, it took me a bit longer to get here from the Vigil's Keep than I thought." Nathaniel kept his tone amiable, his posture relaxed.

"Nonsense!" The Bann encouraged him. "We expected you to arrive last. Gave us a bit of time to hammer out the last details," she noted. "Please, have a seat."

Nathaniel took his place across from Bann Esmerelle at the head of the table. A few other nobles he recognized lined the sides, along with a couple younger knights that he might have known when they were just boys.

One of the men, Ser Timothy spoke next. "Would you say the Warden-Commander trusts you, Lord Howe?"

He nodded, exuding confidence even though he felt uncomfortable being addressed in such a way by these people. "She does. I was able to come this morning because she allowed me leave to visit my sister in the city. The Cousland said she had other business to attend to today and won't even be checking to see if that's where I actually went." Nathaniel painted devilish smirk across his face.

"Perfect," Ser Timothy replied, his lips mimicking Nathaniel's. "When you return to Vigil's Keep, you'll tell her that you heard word of a darkspawn attack on Lord Eddlebreck's farm. Then, you'll lead her there - and find a way to get her into the barn alone."

"We will have dealt with Eddlebreck and his men, to set the scene properly," Lady Liza broke into the conversation.

"As I was saying," Timothy glared at Liza, not appreciating the interruption. "You and her in the barn. We'll have people waiting inside to ambush her, but should you get the opportunity, feel free to kill her yourself."

"Eddlebreck will be framed for the entire thing," Liza interjected again.

Nathaniel nodded, his eyes narrowed as if he was thinking. Standing, he moved over by the window and laced his fingers together behind his head. "Hmm," he sighed. "It sounds as though you've all thought this out quite well, but there are a few flaws in your plan."

Bann Esmerelle grinned mischievously. "We would appreciate any insight you may have in assassinating that slippery Cousland bitch, Lord Howe."

"Of course," Nathaniel grinned back at the woman, masking the rage that bubbled inside him upon hearing such a tactless insult. The rogue exuded a comfortable demeanor as he placed his hands in his pockets, though the intent behind the posture certainly was not innocent. "The largest flaw in your plan is that of course that you assume that I want Emilia dead."

Eyes went wide in the room as Nathaniel pulled out a poisonous gas bomb and flung it at the table. His other hand immediately covered his mouth and nose with a cloth doused in the antidote, and he backed out of the cloud of smoke.

The door crashed down, a guard falling dead on top of the busted up wood, as a pair of guards poured in from the back. The two guards dodged over the slumbering nobles and headed straight for Nathaniel. The rogue blocked the first blow with his two daggers. Nathaniel knew the second was moving to attack him as he struggled to push the first attacker's greatsword back. _Maker's breath, where are my reinforcements?_ As if in answer to his albeit blasphemous prayer, a greataxe stuck into the side of his assailant.

An arrow flew past Nathaniel's other side, just missing the second man approaching him. Fear filled the attacker's eyes just before his body froze over. Before Nathaniel could even move, a stonefist followed in the path of the arrow, though it did not miss the frozen target, who was subsequently shattered into pieces.

"Garevel!" Emilia's voice shouted, and suddenly the small farm house was filled with half a dozen guards, rounding up and binding the sleepy conspirators.

Her small gloved hand gently squeezed Nathaniel's upper arm. "Next time, we're back to you with the arrows and me with the swords, got it?" Emilia chided them both with a chuckle.

Nathaniel joined in, appreciating the wide smile gracing her face. "I was going to suggest the same thing."

"Hey!" Oghren grumbled from Nathaniel's other side. "Where's my thanks for savin' yer ass?"

Nathaniel couldn't help but tease the dwarf. "That was you? Are you sure? I couldn't smell you coming."

Emilia giggled at Nathaniel's comment, and Oghren guffawed. "Ha! You've been spending too much time with Anders."

"Low blow!" The mage shouted from across the room, where he and Velanna were noting their success as a spellcasting team.

Emilia rolled her eyes. "Come on, we've still got a lot of work to do in Amaranthine. We're taking the conspirators to the city, and will be locking them up and interrogating all their household members. Then we'll schedule and start the executions."

Executions - a necessary part of dealing with this whole thing - and one he knew Emilia wouldn't take lightly. A week ago he would have accused her of bloodlust over the ordeal - but he knew her better now. "Public?" Nathaniel simply inquired, hoping her answer would give him something to gauge her feelings by.

"Only for the main conspirators," Emilia clarified, simple and businesslike. "I want to send the message that I'm not to be fucked with, but there's no need to be excessively gruesome. The people of Amaranthine have seen enough death as it is."

Nathaniel nodded and Emilia left his side to speak with Captain Garevel.

 _If she's hurting at all about this, she's doing a damn good job of hiding it._

* * *

The rest of the day had been long indeed. Escorting the conspirators into Amaranthine, interrogating every member and servant within their households in the city, arresting those who were guilty or suspicious. Sentencing had begun for those in charge of things, all of whom would be facing execution. Bann Esermelle, Ser Timothy and Lady Liza were publically executed late that afternoon. Nathaniel thought it oddly quick, but Emilia said she didn't want to risk any of them getting away.

Oghren, Anders, Velanna and Nathaniel sat at a large table in the Wardens' Amaranthine manor, finishing up their dinner. Emilia sat away from the group, oddly quiet and reserved. Nathaniel watched her, searching her face and posture for clues. Throughout the entire day she had been tough and clever. She had worked hard to keep her temper under control. She had even laughed - just the one time, at the farm.

 _I wish I could hear that laugh again,_ Nathaniel mused. He furrowed his brow and looked down, unsure of why such a thought would even cross his mind.

 _Because she's your friend and you want her to be happy,_ he assured himself.

Whatever conversation the others were having had faded from his attention, and his eyes found their way back to Emilia. He debated with himself on going over to speak with her, but just as he resolved to do so, Anders and his sandy blonde hair plopped down next to Emilia, blocking Nathaniel's view. Frustrated, he grit his teeth and attempted to listen to their conversation. They were too far away and spoke too quietly for Nathaniel to catch anything being said, and he scolded himself for even trying. _What does it matter to you anyhow?_

Just then, Oghren's voice brought him out of this thoughts.

"Nathaniel!"

"Hmm?"

"What do you think? Isn't it a shame all that delicious Antivan brandy from Bann Esmerelle's cellar is going to go to waste?"

Before he could respond, a pair of voices beat him to it in tandem.

"Actually," Emilia and Anders stood behind Oghren, each on either side of him with a hand on his shoulder. "We're going to drink it tonight!"

* * *

A couple of hours later, and the main hall of the Wardens' Amaranthine estate was filled with guests. Loyal nobles, merchants, even a few dockworkers and bards. Nathaniel sat to the side with his sister, observing the dancing and singing that was happening in the center of the room.

"This isn't strange to you?" his husky tone inquired.

"Not at all," Delilah grinned. "After such a grim day, Emilia's showing the people that she trusts them. That she's not about to go out on a witch hunt. That she is ruler, but also a person just like all of them.

"Hmm." Nathaniel grunted, his eyes fixed on the crowd. The bards and many of the guests were singing the "Tale of the Hero of Ferelden," and Emilia's lips were drawn up on either side. The Howe rolled his eyes and looked back at his sister. "It just seems a bit cold to be so happy after killing three people publicly."

Delilah gestured towards Emilia. "You think she's happy?"

"She's smiling," he snarled.

"That's a mask, Nate," Delilah snapped back. "Look at her closely. Have you forgotten her true smile?"

Nathaniel searched his memory, recalling a moment from years ago.

 _"Do you take this woman..." The words of the Reverend Mother faded from the foreground. It was a wedding, two blonde nobles stood hand in hand taking their vows._ Cailan and Anora's wedding, Nathaniel recalled. _Standing on Anora's other side was a gorgeous young woman with long brown hair and bright emerald eyes. She wore a burgundy velvet dress with fur trim, and her eyes sparkled as she observed the ceremony. Nathaniel's gaze lingered on her - on Emilia. She must have felt it, because for just a moment, she turned to meet his eyes. Though her lips had already been turned upward, they now spread wider, revealing a stunning smile. She gave him a wink and returned her view back to the couple exchanging their vows._

As Nathaniel observed Emilia now, recalling that smile from the past, it was clear that the one she currently wore was fake, just as his sister had asserted.

 _I made her smile that day,_ Nathaniel mused. _Perhaps I can again._

And suddenly, there it was - Emilia laughed and truly smiled. But it wasn't Nathaniel's doing - rather she wore it for the blonde mage who rested his hand on her shoulder.

Delilah's giggle reminded Nathaniel of her company. "You're jealous," she teased him.

"Jealous?" Nathaniel whipped his gaze to his sister, questioning her choice of words, though he also realized his jaw had been clenched and his brow furrowed.

"Don't deny it, you were grinning like an idiot until Anders made her laugh."

The only response Nathaniel gave Delilah was a low a grumble as he shook his head.

Delilah watched the party. "It's just funny is all," she continued. "That after all these years the shoe would be on the other foot."

Nathaniel lowered his brow, confused. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

Delilah giggled again. "Oh come on, don't tell me you didn't know?"

Frowning, Nathaniel was growing impatient with his sister and the little game she was playing. "Didn't know what?" He seethed, his leather voice harsh.

Delilah faced him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Emilia was practically in love with you growing up - I can't believe you never noticed."

Upon considering this, so many strange moments from his past made more sense. As Nathaniel reflected briefly on memories of Emilia which would support this, his sister continued to speak.

"Who knows, maybe she still does?" she speculated. "Perhaps that's why she never did settle down."

Nathaniel curiously turned his silver eyes back to the party, immediately finding Emilia.

Just in time to see her kiss Anders.

"Yeah, sure," Nathaniel grumbled as he promptly stood, turned his back on the scene, and left the party.

* * *

 **A/N: Oh my. These two. Smh. Why'd she do that? What now? I would love to hear what your thoughts are!**


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